Jordan's Paintings
by PearlQ19
Summary: When a skeleton is found in a nice and peaceful Philadelphia suburb, buried thirty years ago, Lilly Rush and her partner have only the accounts of the four families living there to rely upon. But family history is more complex than they think...
1. Prologue

**JORDAN'S PAINTINGS**

_A/N: __"Cold Case" started in Germany last year, and I was instantly hooked on the show. I was so inspired that I started writing this fanfiction after I had watched the second episode. By the time they replaced Chris by Scotty, I had already written at least one third of this story and did not want to change everything. This explains why it's still Lilly and Chris in this story, although Chris was only there for four or five episodes. Take this as their last case together. To all you Lilly/Scotty 'shippers out there - never you worry! This stoy does NOT contain any explicit Lilly/Chris 'shipping (friendshipping, if anything). I tried to stay as general as possible, really concentrating on the case. Yes, there are a few scenes between the partners, but again: it's no intended 'shipping. And this Kite or Kyte guy (however that's spelled) doesn't appear, anyway._

_Now, as of August 2005, the second season is over in Germany (and probably even the third season where you live), and I really hope you guys won't be too confused by Scotty's absence. I suppose you've all more or less forgotten about Chris. The reason why I'm posting this so late is that the show came, of course, later to Germany because it had to be dubbed first. And I had the story actually finished by last summer, but due to a hard drive crash, the file was partly destroyed. I had to type in about half of the story anew (thank God I had at least a printout of the original!)_

_This was my very first attempt to write a crime story. I hope I got everything at least about right. All reviews welcome (or rather: desired...), and as usual: If you spot any grammar/syntax mistakes (not just typos), please tell me._

_Disclaimer:__ The characters in this story were created by Meredith Stiehm (or Stehm?), and I'm just borrowing them for another cold case for them to solve. I do not take any profit out of this story; it is written merely for fun._

_Summary:__ A skeleton is found buried in a nice and peaceful Philadelphia suburb. The suspects: Four families who live in the area. Detectives Lilly Rush and Chris Lassing investigate and burrow deep into a history of secrets, misunderstandings and loss..._

**Prologue**

_Deansville, 1967_

_The wind was howling, and the chilling cold kept everyone indoors in front of the fireplace. Gales hit the windowpanes and let the blinds rattle. It was the January storm that held the whole area in its icy grip. Not a mouse stirred in this night, or at least the people thought so._

_This particular part of Deansville did not exactly belong to the actual town. It was rather a group of four houses that formed the very northern border of the Philadelphia suburbs. The four families that lived here mostly kept to themselves. Every now and then, they would drive down to the center of Deansville, do the necessary shopping, maybe go to church once a month. They went to the local elections, and their children went to Deansville High. But apart from that, the four families ware rarely seen guests in the community, and therefore there was no reason for any inhabitant of Deansville to waste more than an occasional thought on the "Outer Four", as they were called. _

_Surely no one in Deansville thought of the Outer Four that night. They all went to bed early and listened drowsily to the howling gales, glad to be home in bed, where it was warm and cozy._

_And with one exception, the Outer Four did as well. _

_Little wonder that no one noticed the person going across the meadow adjacent to the last house on the street. It was four past midnight, and the rain was getting stronger and stronger. But this person did not seem to mind. He or she was busy dragging a large thing across the meadow. Reaching the edge of the forest, the person stopped, took a spade he had brought along as well, and began to dig. The ground was soaked with rain, and the frost had melted. The digging went fast, and when the hole was deep enough, the person stopped and pushed the large thing inside. The he shoveled the earth back into the hole._

_When the person finally turned around and headed back for the houses, it was shortly before two._


	2. A Body from the Past

Chapter One: A Body From The Past 

Philadelphia, 2003 

"This weather is killing me!" Detective Lilly Rush rolled her head from one side to the other to work out the kinks. "It's giving me one hell of a headache."

"Don't expect me to feel sorry for you," Detective Nick Vera answered wryly. "I'm too busy coping with my own head."

"Good to know I'm not the only one," Lilly commented. She leaned back in her chair and stretched. "It's completely unpredictable whether it's gonna be fine tomorrow or not."

"It's unbelievable how concentrated we are on work today," said Nick and grinned. "If Stillman could see us now, talking about the weather, he'd probably..."

"He'd probably tell you to get back to the case as fast as your headaches allow," Stillman's voice sounded from behind.

Lilly and Nick turned around to see their boss standing behind them with his arms crossed in front of his chest But despite his angry tone, there was a glint in his eye that gave him away.

"Could you warn us next time when you're planning to sneak around?" Lilly asked.

"Could you warn me next time when you're planning to gossip about your superior?" Stillman replied in the same tone.

"Touché," Lilly conceded. "What is it, sir?"

"A couple of construction workers found something over in Deansville," Stillman said. "The local sheriff called ten minutes ago and said they needed the Homicide Squad over there."

"Why come to me?" asked Lilly.

"Because I thought you might find this interesting," Stillman replied. "It's not exactly a cold case, but it could turn out to be one, after all."

"You're making me curious," Nick cut in. "Can I come along?"

"As far as I know, Detective Vera, _you_ have a case to solve," said Stillman wryly. "Not to mention that you're not her partner, anyway."

"Chris went to have lunch," Lilly informed her boss. "Shall I page him?"

"If you please."

Lilly went to do as instructed, and Nick turned to Stillman. "But surely you can tell me what kind of case that is?"

Stillman sighed, but he conceded and leaned against Nick's desk.

"Deansville is the most northern Philadelphia suburb," he said. "It's a rather small town, but they're planning to expand. A few miles north of the actual town, there are another four houses, and then there's only forest. "A construction company bought the land and planned to start working on it next week. This morning they started digging in the ground, and two workers found a skeleton."

"Holy cow!" Nick whistled.

"I suppose that's about the same the workers said when they made their discovery." Stillman was clearly having a good day "They called the sheriff, and he called me."

"And you thought Lilly should get the case because it happened quite obviously a couple of years ago." It was not exactly a question, and Stillman did not think it worth answering.

"I'm meeting Chris outside the building in ten minutes," Lilly announced when she returned. "Now could you please tell me what this is all about?"

**XXX**

"Nice area," Lilly commented when she and her partner, Chris Lassing, arrived at the scene. "A little too quiet for my taste, but definitely nice."

"_Way_ too quiet for _my _taste," said Chris. "Take a look around, Lilly. There's only four houses here, and the center of the town is ten miles away. Do you really think you'd like that?"

Lilly grinned. "Not really," she admitted.

They continued their way towards the circle of yellow crime scene tape that surrounded a hole in the ground. A group of people were standing around the hole, and Lilly cleared her throat in order to draw their attention to her. A tall, dark-haired man with a long face and a rather prominent nose turned around and came towards Lilly and Chris.

"Are you Stillman's people?"

Lilly nodded. "I'm Detective Lilly Rush, this is my partner, Detective Chris Lassing. And you are..."

The man smiled and stretched out his hand. "Graham Webster. I'm the sheriff."

Lilly shook his hand and tried not to let her bewilderment show. But apparently she did not manage, for Sheriff Webster grinned. "I bet I know what you're thinking," he said. "_Where the heck is his uniform?_"

Lilly admitted that this was indeed what had crossed her mind.

"You see, I was on my way to the office when the two gentlemen here called me," Sheriff Webster explained. "I keep my uniform in my office, but as I never arrived there, I didn't get the chance to put it on." He looked down at his blue jeans. "But I should really get an extra star," he added. "Wouldn't that look good on my belt buckle? Ha, ha, ha!"

Lilly politely curled her lips a little. Then she pointed at the hole and the other people standing around it.

"Who are these people?" she asked. "And why are they crowding the crime scene?"

"Crime scene?" Graham Webster laughed. "My dear Detective, this poor guy has been lying in that hole for at least a decade. Do you really think it appropriate to still call it a crime scene? I mean, most likely he wasn't even killed here."

"Still it is your obligation to keep the scene as clear as possible," Lilly retorted. "No one should get there until a CSI unit has searched the whole area. There could still be some evidence left. And besides, how do we know he wasn't killed here?"

"Lilly..." said Chris. "Cool down, OK?"

"I _am _cool!" she snapped at him. A moment later, she lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just the weather. It's killing me."

"Nevermind." Sheriff Webster had already recovered from the shock, and so had Chris.

"So who are they?" Lilly repeated in a friendlier tone.

"From left to right: Harry Dean and Eddie Chambers, the two workers who found the skeleton; Matthew Parker, my deputy; Lucy Johnson, my assistant; Gabriel and Jordan Jarvis, who live in one of the houses, and their son Alex; Dylan McLaren, also from the neighborhood, and his sister, Sunday."

"I don't suppose that any of them works for the Prosecuting Attorney's Office?" Lilly asked ironically. "Then it would be a good idea to call them and ask them to send someone along."

"Yup, Detective," said Graham brightly and turned around to use his cell phone.

Lilly and Chris exchanged a glance and then joined the little group.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," Lilly said and introduced herself and Chris. "Could you please step back from the police cordon? Thank you. This is a crime scene and must not be contaminated."

Murmuring, the little group took a few steps backward.

"Mr. Dean and Mr. Chambers, would you please join us?" Lilly looked at the two construction workers. "We have a few questions we must ask you."

The two men looked shy and awkward. Harry Dean, who was tall and a little overweight, was the first to speak.

"Yes, ma'am." He followed Lilly and Chris, and Eddie Chambers quickly caught up with his colleague.

When they were out of earshot, Lilly turned to the two men.

"Let's do the preliminaries first," she said and smiled bracingly. "This is routine procedure. Would you please tell me your names and occupation first and then sum up what led to the situation at hand?"

Her calm, confident tone seemed to calm down the two a little.

"Harry Millhouse Dean, construction worker for Skyline Ltd.," murmured Harry.

"Edward Frederick Chambers, construction worker for Skyline Ltd.," murmured Eddie.

"Go ahead," said Chris friendly as they both stopped and looked expectantly at the detectives.

"Well," said Harry, "we were supposed to test the ground, like, you know, loosen the earth and take samples and all that sort of stuff. Do the dirty work first."

There was slight edge in his voice, and Lilly wondered whether he was secretly angry at his boss for not letting him do the "actual" work.

"So we come here this morning at seven with just a few spades and a jackhammer," Harry continued. "And we start, well, digging. And then we, like, notice something odd in the ground."

"_Something odd_?" Lilly echoed. "What do you mean?"

"Uhm, the spade hits something hard, and we think it's a stone or something, so we go on a little more carefully. And then Eddie says, Harry, he says, there's something wrong here. That ain't no stone there. And we take closer look, and I think that's only a little bit of limestone or whatever, but that's a weird form, so I switch on the flashlight, and then I see that it's actually a hand. Geez!"

"Yes, go ahead," said Lilly as Harry paused again. "You're doing fine."

"Well, I say, Eddie, I say, you're right, that ain't no stone. That looks like a goddamn _hand_. And then we wonder what to do, and I say, let's just make sure it's not some cat that them kids buried here like in that movie with them zombies. And so we dig a little deeper, and there it is. Holy shit!"

"What did you do then?"

"Get the hell outta that hole, ma'am. I say to Eddie, we're not supposed to touch anything, and someone's gotta stay with that poor guy there. I know that a body shouldn't be left alone when it's found. I saw that on TV the other night. And Eddie says, he doesn't wanna stay with him, so I stay and Eddie goes to get the sheriff."

"Where did you reach the sheriff, Mr. Chambers? Eddie?" Lilly tried her best not to seem too keen, although she could barely hide her impatience.

"Well..." Eddie blushed and stared on the ground. "I go over to them houses there and wanna ask if I can use the phone coz I don't have a cell phone, and I just wanna ring the doorbell when this lady opens the door and says, what do you want, she says, and I say, I gotta call the sheriff, and she says, well, she says, he lives two houses down the street, and there he is getting in his car, so I run after him and call, Sheriff, I say, Harry and I found something in the ground there, and he comes along and takes a look and says he gotta call the police of Philadelphia and get a few detectives from Homicide coz this is too big for him... I mean... he's not, like, an inspector or something..." Eddie trailed off.

Lilly cast a side glance at Chris and noticed that he was struggling to suppress a laugh.

"Thank you, Eddie," she said, helping Eddie out of his dilemma. "You acted correctly."

"Thanks, ma'am," said Harry. "I was hoping I would. You know, I love them crime shows on TV. This CFI thing, and that one with the blonde hottie that catches them killers coz she creeps in their heads and sees pictures..."

"Very good," said Lilly, interrupting him. "Now would you please tell Detective Lassing your addresses and be prepared for another conversation with us. We may have to contact you again about the matter."

"But ma'am, we ain't no suspects or anything, are we?" Harry's voice sounded skeptic. Lilly now had also trouble not to laugh.

"Don't worry," she said. "This poor guy has been lying here for quite a while. No one's going to suspect you. But you're important witnesses."

"Ah. Alright. Sure." Harry and Eddie dictated their addresses to Chris, who wrote them down. Then they said goodbye and returned to the group of people, who had been watching the detectives during the interrogation.

"CFI?" said Chris with a wide grin as soon as they were out of earshot. "I didn't know that there was a crime show starring the Court of First Instance of the European Union."

"Wow, Chris, you really did your homework," Lilly teased, but she was grinning, too. "And what was that thing about a blonde creeping in the heads of killers and seeing pictures...?"

"My guess would be he was talking about _Profiler_." Chris was almost an expert on TV series. "And he's right, the female lead really _is_ a hottie."

"Uh-huh." Lilly did not want to talk about hot TV stars. "So what do we have till now?"

"Not much." Chris sighed. "A skeleton buried in a meadow in a Philadelphia suburb. Two slightly dim guys..."

"Chris!"  
"Sorry. Two not too intelligent guys who are harmless. And a very small neighborhood."

"That's at least a point where we can begin," Lilly concluded. "If someone from this neighborhood killed him and buried him here, then it might be possible that the neighbors saw something. At least they might have heard an argument or something."

"Or they all know everything, but no one tells." Chris was playing devil's advocate.

"Let's assume that this is not the case," said Lilly. "It will be difficult enough without your conspiracy theories. We'd better wait for the District Attorney to arrive before we order the CSI and the pathologist. So what can we do in the meantime?"

"Oh, that's the two hundred and fifty thousand dollar question, right?" Chris smirked. "How about we talk to the audience?"


	3. The Outer Four

**Chapter Two – The Outer Four**

Deputy Matthew Parker and Lucy Johnson had talked to the others while Lilly and Chris had been talking to Harry and Eddie, and they now turned around as the two detectives approached.

"Anything useful yet?" asked Deputy Parker.

Lilly and Chris both shook their heads.

The other people were standing behind Parker and Lucy, and Lilly now found the time to look at them more closely.

Gabriel Jarvis was of medium height and had a handsome face. His hair had probably been brown and was now going gray. He was about sixty. His wife Jordan still had raven hair with only a few gray strands, which was rather striking. Her face was well-proportioned, and she hardly had any wrinkles. Without a doubt, Jordan Jarvis was still a very attractive woman. In comparison to her husband, she seemed to be the stronger character. Dylan McLaren, who was standing beside Gabriel, was a little overweight and had a round, friendly face. His cheeks were flushed and his small eyes were sparkling. His hair had once been blonde and was now of that indifferent color between blonde and gray. His sister Sunday was petite and very slender. She also had a friendly face with sparkling eyes, and her hair was still blonde. She seemed to be a little younger that the others; Lilly estimated that she was in her late forties. The Jarvis's son, Alex, stood beside Lucy. He had inherited his mother's natural strength and grace and his father's good looks. Lilly had to take just one look at him to know that he was probably the crush of every girl in his high school. Seventeen or eighteen years old, Lilly estimated.

All these people were now looking at her and Chris as if they were waiting for them to make a speech.

For a moment, nobody spoke, but then Lucy Johnson broke the silence.

"Detectives, I suppose you would like to talk to them as well." She said and gestured at the others.

Lucy was a redhead of about thirty; she wore glasses and was dressed casually. Deputy Parker was the only one who wore full uniform.

"Yes, Lucy, thank you," Lilly said. She glanced back over her shoulder to see where Sheriff Webster was, but he was still - or again - on the phone. So she turned back to the little group and smiled.

"Well, the regular _Did you see or hear anything _question doesn't apply in this case," she said. "And we can't say how long this guy's been buried here until the pathologist has examined him. But I'd say he's been in there for at least a decade. This leads me to my first question: How long have you lived here?"

"All my life," said Jordan Jarvis. "All of us."

Lilly raised and eyebrow, and Jordan seemed to take it as a signal to elaborate.

"This is not exactly Deansville, Detectives," she said. "This is a very small community that has existed for almost a hundred years now. Our grandfathers founded it, and since then our families have always lived here. We grew up together, and none of us thought about moving away." Her husband squirmed, and jordan cast him an impatient glance. "Well, at least none of those present," she amended.

Lilly heard Chris move behind her.

"Do you recall anything that struck you?" she asked. "Did anyone try to intrude your community, or was there a time when one or more strangers came here frequently? I know this is a difficult question because we don't know yet how far we have to go back in time, but maybe there is something you can think of off the top of your head."

Jordan shook her head energetically, and the others did the same.

"No one hardly ever comes here," Sunday chimed in. "We're out in the middle of nowhere. Well, of course it's nice here," she added when she saw the faces of the others.

"At least no one used to," Dylan said with a sigh. "But now there is of course the construction company, and when they start constructing, then our peace and quiet will be past."

"I regret that," said Lilly. "But apart from the latest developments, there has never been anything out of the ordinary here?"

"I can't remember anything," said Jordan, and all the others nodded.

"It's hard to believe, Detectives, but there are actually some places in the U.S. where nothing ever happens," said Gabriel. "And our community is one of those places."

"Well, as you can see, something _did_ happen here," said Chris wryly.

"Yes, of course," said Gabriel hastily. "I just meant that none of us noticed anything."

"If you say so, then I must believe you," said Lilly. "The smaller a community, the easier for the inhabitants to notice anything extraordinary. But since this doesn't seem to be the case..."

She trailed off and turned around when Sheriff Webster returned. "Sorry I took so long," he said brightly. "They're sending the district attorney's assistant, Michael McCarthy. Did I miss out on anything?"

"Just a little history lecture," Chris replied.

"Oh, I see." Graham grinned. "I suppose our Jordan couldn't bear to remain silent all the time."

"Bite your tongue!" Jordan threatened, but she was smiling.

"You like to talk a lot, Jordan?" Lilly asked.

"Only when I have something to say," Jordan replied. "The rest is expressed otherwise."

"My wife is an artist," Gabriel cut in. "And a damn good one, too. Her pictures have real subjects, none of this modern crap. She sold a number of pictures to collectors and galleries. Last year there was a vernissage of her works in the Hampton Gallery down in Philly. Did you happen to go there?"

"I'm afraid no," said Lilly. "But I'm sure I'll get the chance to see a few of her works."

"She also makes sculptures," Gabriel said proudly.

"And what do you do for a living, Mr. Jarvis?" Lilly asked.

"I take it that you don't know my name," Gabriel said. "Well, nevermind. Maybe I'm not to your taste. I'm a writer."

"I don't read much," said Lilly. "At least no novels. I don't have the time."

"He writes wonderful novels," Sunday said and smiled at Gabriel. "If you ever have the time, you should go and get some of them. _Dazzled _is my personal favorite."

"I'll keep it in mind."

Jordan Jarvis cleared her throat. "How about a cup of coffee over in our house?" she asked. "I suppose this will be taking a while. You are of course welcome as well, Detectives," she said to Lilly and Chris.

Lilly and Chris exchanged a glance. "Sure, why not," Chris said eventually. "Thank you, Mrs. Jarvis, that's very kind of you."

"You just go, Chris," said Lilly. "I'll stay here. Someone has to wait for the attorney, and the body shouldn't be left unguarded, either."

"I can do that," Deputy Parker offered. "I'm on duty, anyway. Not to mention that I've seen the Jarvis house more often than you have. It's really worth taking a look."

"Thank you, Deputy." Lilly smiled.

"I'll bring you a mug, Matt," said Gabriel.

"Thanks, Gabe."

"I don't want a coffee," said Alex Jarvis. "I'm staying with Matt."

The others turned around and went towards the first house on the street, except for Harry Dean and Eddie Chambers, who returned to their cars.

"Welcome to Jarvis residence," said Jordan when Lilly and Chris went past her through the door.

Lilly looked around. Jordan had led them into a tastefully furnished living room. All colors matched; everything seemed to belong together. It was really not hard to tell that an artist lived here.

"Are they yours?" Lilly pointed her head at two large, framed oil paintings hanging on the wall behind the couch. The left one showed a steep, stormy coast. Waves were crushing on the cliffs; the sky was dark and covered in black, storm-lashed clouds. A full moon shone and illuminated the top of the cliff. Lilly blinked and stepped closer. She was not mistaken: On top of the cliff stood a person, too small to tell whether it was a man or a woman. The figure just stood there, facing the water.

"I call it _The Tempest-Tossed_," Jordan remarked.

Lilly winced. She had not noticed the woman standing behind her.

"Is this a man or a woman there?" she asked.

Jordan gave an enigmatic smile and shrugged. "Whatever you want to see," she said.

"What is he doing up there? Contemplating suicide?"

"Strange, isn't it, that everyone's first thought is _suicide _when they see the picture," said Jordan. "No one supposes he or she is just thinking about things. Or doing a weather experiment. Or howling at the moon. Sleepwalking. There are numerous possibilities why someone should climb a cliff on a stormy night, but the rest of the world only thinks of the negative."

Lilly remained silent. Her gaze wandered back to the picture, and she suddenly understood why people could spend hours in a gallery looking at just one picture. There was something about this particular one that fascinated her. But she could not tell what it was.

"Earth calling Lilly," said Chris into her ear, and Lilly jumped. She had been standing in front of the picture for five minutes, she realized. Jordan was just returning from the kitchen and announced that the coffee would be ready in a few minutes.

Lilly made an effort to look away from the picture and looked at the other one. It seemed strangely familiar, but only after a moment did Lilly realize why: It showed the same coast, the same cliff, but this time on a sunny summer day. The sky was azure, the few clouds were of a flawless white, and green grass was growing on top of the cliff. Moss covered the precipice. The sea was quiet. Lilly looked at the spot where the person in the other picture stood. There was no person in this one, but a bush grew on that spot, blooming yellow. Broom, probably, Lilly thought. Other than _The Tempest-Tossed_, this painting exuded a pleasant sense of calm. Lilly almost thought she could smell the sea and the broom. She was just about to turn away when she noticed something that caught her eye: The precipice was deeply fissured, depicted by Jordan in dark brush lines that went through the whole cliff. And Lilly had just noticed that some of them formed four letters: G - J - J - D. It was completely inconspicuous, even more so because they read diagonally from top to bottom, hidden between other lines that did not belong to them.

Lilly looked back to the other painting and tried to find the same pattern. It was there, only that this time the letters were in another order, reading J - D - G - J.

Some of her amazement must have shown on her face, because Jordan stepped up to her.

"Detected something interesting?" she asked with a wink.

Lilly turned to look at her. "Do you hide secret messages in all your paintings?"

Jordan smiled. "Sometimes," she said. "But again, only if I have something to say."

"What does it mean?" asked Lilly.

"You can find out yourself," said Jordan. "It's not hard."

Lilly looked back at the pictures. At first she had thought it was a kind of signature, but Jordan had signed the paintings in the lower right-hand corner - illegibly, as it was appropriate for an artist.

G - J. As in Gabriel Jarvis. Lilly grinned. "When did you paint those?" she asked.

Jordan smiled. "I think she's got it," she quoted. "These are my first oil paintings ever. I was twenty years old when I painted them."

"And unmarried, I suppose. So I'll take a wild guess and suppose that your maiden name starts with a D."

"Jordan Ruth Jarvis, née Donahue." Jordan dropped a mock curtsy to Lilly. "Congratulations, you solved the riddle." She glanced at her husband, and an affectionate smile softened her perfect features. "I've had an immortal crush on Gabriel since I was ten. Little wonder that I wanted to tell the artistic world, don't you think, Detective Rush?"

"You had something to say," said Lilly. "Right?"

"Right." Jordan took Lilly's arm and gently dragged her away from the pictures. "Come on, the coffee is ready. And I think your partner's starting to miss you."

"That's the way rumors spread," Chris commented. He glanced curiously at Lilly. "You look a bit confused."

"I'm OK," Lilly replied while she was sitting down beside her partner. "I've just been thinking."

"Anything you'd like to share?"

"Later." Lilly accepted the mug of coffee from Jordan, thanked her, added milk and sipped the hot drink. It was strong, but not too strong, and hot, but not too hot to drink. In other words: perfect, just like everything in Jordan Jarvis's household.

She looked around in the living room and noticed that Lucy Johnson was no longer there.

"Where's Lucy?" she asked.

"She went upstairs to say hi to my mom," said Gabriel. "She's living with us, you know. She's eighty-four years old, but still very vital. I'm sure you would like her."

"Your mother," Lilly repeated. "And she's lived here all her life, too, hasn't she?"

"Of course," said Gabriel. "We all have."

"We might have to talk to her, anyway," Lilly said. "Later, when we know a little bit more. Is she..." She trailed off, but Gabriel understood.

"She's mentally completely healthy," he assured. "And she's got an amazing memory. Her name's Diane, but Jordan sometimes calls her the Dialephant," he added with a laugh. "You know what they say about elephants."

"Elephants can remember," Chris and Lilly said in unison and looked at each other. Gabriel Jarvis had just given them a useful piece of information.

"Did I get that right that you all are the scions of those four families who founded this little community?" Lilly asked Dylan McLaren, who happened to sit beside her.

"Yup, Detective Rush," said Dylan. "Apart from Lucy and Matt, that is; they're from Deansville. And they belong to that very small group of people who sometimes come out here. Most of Deansville's inhabitants look down on us. They think we're just a bunch of weirdoes. They call us _The Outer Four_."

"But don't you go to work in Deansville?" asked Chris.

Dylan sighed. "I'm working in the bank, that's true," he said, "and Sunday's got a job at the post office and in the little shop that's adjacent. But we don't have much contact to our colleagues, or at least I don't. Sunny's made a few friends, but she's just that kind of person, you know. Always ready for small talk or exchanging cooking recipes or something like that. She was actually born in the wrong country, I think. She should live in one of those English villages with names such as Little Hangleton or Bexley-upon-Avon or Market Basing. You know what I mean."

Lilly and Chris nodded yes.

"Well," Dylan continued, "there we are. All still here - the Jarvis's, the Donahues, the McLarens, and the Websters." He hesitated. "Almost all, that is," he said.

Lilly remembered that Jordan had also said something like that.

"So who isn't?" she asked.

Dylan glanced over his shoulder as if to check that no one was listening. "That's a story on its own," he said. "And I think you'd better ask Gabe about it. Or Jordan."

"Is it some sort of secret?" Lilly wanted to know.

Dylan smiled nervously. "No, of course not," he said. "It's just... it's about Gabe's brother, and I thought you should hear his story from a member of the family. If you want to hear it at all," he added. "That's only a bit of family history and has nothing to do with the dead guy out there."

"Are you sure?" Chris looked at Dylan until the other man looked away.

"It's alright, Chris," said Lilly. And to Dylan she said, "Could you at least tell us in which year this was?"

"It's been ages," said Dylan. "The incident I'm talking about occurred in 1967."

"Wow, that's even before I was born," said Lilly.

"Yeah, I was almost a child back then," said Dylan. "I was just about twenty. But let's not talk about that." Dylan raised his coffee mug. "Here's to our Jordan!"

Gabriel, Sunday and Sheriff Webster also raised their mugs. "To our Jordan," they repeated.

Jordan made a face. "Come on, you're being childish," she said, although it was obvious that she was pleased.

Gabriel went to her and kissed her cheek. He said something to her, and Jordan turned around and went into the kitchen with Gabriel at her heels.

Lilly leaned back in the comfortable armchair and emptied her coffee mug. Then she turned to Chris.

"I think I heard a car," she said. "The attorney's arrived."

She and Chris stood and turned to the door, and Sheriff Webster followed. When they emerged from the house, a blue Mercedes rolled down the street and came to a halt in front of them. A young man with frizzy blonde hair and a small moustache, wearing a crumpled business suit, got out of the car.

"Hi Sheriff," he called. "I'm sorry I'm later, but I made a wrong turn. Four times. Pretty hard to find your little colony here."

"Nevermind," Sheriff Webster replied brightly. "When you're here, you're here."

"You've got a point there, Sheriff!" The young attorney laughed jovially and then turned to Lilly and Chris.

"Hel-_lo_, handsome!" he said with a wink at Lilly.

"For you it's Detective Rush," said Lilly coolly.

The attorney looked taken aback, then he laughed again. "Oh, I'm sorry, Detective. I'm still not used to women working with the police."

"Then it's time you adapted," Chris remarked, and his voice was even colder than Lilly's. "Detective Lassing. And your name is..."

"I'm Mike," the attorney announced. "Just Mike. I'm the personal assistant of His Excellency, District Attorney Mitchell Vaughn. But he was too busy to drive all the way down from Philly, so he sent me, as usual. And now tell me, where's the body? I wanna know all the gory details!"

Lilly rolled her eyes. "I fear you've been misinformed," she said. "This is no _crime passionel_ where there are any gory details. Or at least not anymore." She turned on her heel and led Mike to the hole in the ground. "There you are," she said. "May I present - John or Jane Doe."


	4. A Little Bit of History

**Chapter Three – A Little Bit of History**

"I'm driving," said Chris when he and Lilly were finally through the whole procedure.

Lilly did not object. She was so tired that she could barely keep her eyes open. The headache she had had all day had started to increase by noon, and Mike's constant babbling and chattering had done nothing to improve her condition. Sunday McLaren had provided her with an aspirin, but the effect of the tablet had worn off about two hours later. The CSI unit had searched the hole and the skeleton, but they hadn't found anything useful. Whatever evidence had been on the skeleton, weather, worms and bacteria had long since gotten rid of it. The pathologist had turned out to be the Chief Medical Examiner in person, Dorian Wynter, who had often worked alongside with Lilly's and Chris's department. He had taken one look at the half-unburied skeleton and then strictly forbidden that anyone do anything more.

"We need an archeologist here," he had grumbled. "How am I supposed to work on that when half of it is still six feet under?"

He had refused to do anything before an expert had joined the team. So Chris had disappeared together with his cell phone, and forty-five minutes later another car had arrived. Stillman had sent Nick Vera and two of his many contact persons in the academic world of Philadelphia: Professor Hiram K. Fitzgerald from the archeological faculty of the university, and one of his doctoral candidates, Jerry Rice.

Hours had passed until the two archeologists had completely uncovered the skeleton. Dr. Wynter had done a preliminary examination and then taken the whole skeleton with him.

It wasn't until four p.m. that Lilly and Chris finally could get in their own car and go back to Philadelphia. Dr. Wynter had set the date for the autopsy on the next day at nine in the morning, and when Lilly now thought of that, she gave a silent moan.

"Are you OK?" Chris asked and glanced at her.

"Not really," Lilly answered truthfully. "I still have this headache, and I'm overtired. Nevermind if I fall asleep during the ride home."

"Poor you," said Chris mockingly, but then he got serious, reached out his hand and briefly touched her knee in a gesture of consolation that moved Lilly. "It was a hard day," he agreed.

She turned her face to him and looked at him with small, red eyes. "Chris, be honest. Do you think we'll solve this case?"

"What do you mean? Of course we will." Chris was positive. "Have we ever screwed up a cold case?"

Lilly had to smile. "No," she admitted. "But there's a first time for everything."

"Why do you suddenly have those doubts?" Chris asked. "That's not the Lilly I know."

"I don't know," Lilly said. "Maybe it's because I never had to deal with such a situation. You know, the location... the _Outer Four_... a family secret about the mysterious brother... If we find a body there, it's only logical to conclude that one of them did it. But that's so hard to believe!" She closed her eyes for a moment. "I don't want any of them to be a murderer," she said eventually. "They're all so nice. And so interesting."

Chris looked at her again. "Don't get involved personally," he warned. "You'll be biased."

"I'm trying." Lilly leaned back in the seat and stared through the windshield. "I'm always trying. But sometimes I just can't help getting involved. That's why I wanted to be a detective, Chris. I wanted to help people to see that justice is done. And this doesn't work without emotion."

"I know," said Chris soothingly. "Don't worry, Lilly, it'll be alright. Maybe none of them has to do with the murder. Maybe Dorian finds out that this skeleton has been in the ground for a hundred years or longer. From all we know, it could have been there since the Civil War, who knows. It's not even certain that it was a murder at all. And if we find out that it was murder, and that it did happen while the four families were living there, then I'll take care of you. I'll make sure that you don't get involved too much."

"You're the best partner I could wish for, Chris," said Lilly silently. "I mean it. Thank you."

"Don't get too sentimental," Chris warned, but he was smiling, and when he had to stop at a red traffic light, he reached again over and laid his hand on her knee. Lilly placed her own hand over his and briefly squeezed it.

"And now let's take you home," Chris said when the traffic light changed to green. "And I strictly forbid you any work tonight. You just go home, take a shower and go straight to bed. Okay?"

"Yessir."

They fell silent for the rest of the way. Chris stopped before Lilly's apartment and waited until she had entered the building. When he saw the light being switched on in her apartment, he started the engine and drove to his own house.

Tomorrow would be another long day.

**XXX**

"So what can we conclude from all the information?" Dorian Wynter looked expectantly at Lilly and Chris.

"That we've got to go back to Deansville and start investigating," said Chris. "There seems to be quite a story behind this."

It was ten thirty in the morning, and Dorian had examined the skeleton. Now, the three of them were sitting in the cafeteria of the forensic institute, discussing what Dorian had found out.

The skeleton was that of a woman, Dorian had determined, and she had most likely been murdered. The skull was indented just above the left temple, as if from a heavy blow. She had been in the ground for more than ten years, but certainly not since the Civil War.

"She can't have been in the ground for more than fifty-nine years, that's for sure," Dorian had said with a playful smirk, "and even that would be completely impossible. I'd say she's been there for, let's say, thirty-five years."

Lilly and Chris had looked at the pathologist. "You know something that we don't," Lilly had said.

Indeed. Dorian had kept them on tenterhooks for a little while, then he had produced a silver chain with a cross attached to it.

"She wore that around her neck," he had explained. "It has an inscription on the back, a date. And I suppose it's her birthday."

Lilly was now holding this cross in her hands, turning it around and around. If Dorian was right, then this woman was born on November 11, 1943, and according to Dorian, she had been in the ground for about thirty-five years.

"Chris, do the math," Lilly said to her partner.

"If I understood you correctly, Dorian, you think that she was about twenty-five when she died," Chris said promptly. "She would have been twenty-five in 1968. How precise can you be, Dorian?"

"Not as precise as you would like it," Dorian grumbled. "It's extremely difficult to determine the age of a skeleton. At least with the means at my disposal."

"But she was grown-up and not older than thirty, is that correct?"

Dorian nodded.

"That means we can narrow down the time period to the late sixties, early seventies," Chris said. "She would have been twenty in 1963, thirty in 1973. That's our time limit."

"At least that's something to start with," said Lilly. "We should have a look at everything that happened in and around Deansville during these ten years. Anything could be useful. Births, deaths, missing persons, crimes."

"Not to mention this _incident _with Gabriel Jarvis's brother," Chris added. "That was in 1967. Doesn't it make you wonder, too, Lilly?"

Lilly nodded reluctantly. "We should find out what it was as soon as possible," she said. "Maybe it's the key to the solution, maybe not."

"Keep me up to date, will you?" said Dorian. "This case is making me curious. I want to know what happened."

Lilly promised to keep him informed about the case.

"Is there anything else you might still find out?" Chris asked Dorian.

Dorian made a face. "You detectives are always so pushy," he complained. "You want everything at once."

"Was that a yes or a no?" Chris insisted.

"I might," said Dorian. "But that requires some more time. You just go and cavass your witnesses, and I'll call you if I find anything else. How does that sound?"

"Wonderful, Dorian," Lilly assured. "Thanks a million, anyway."

She waited for Chris to finish his coffee, then the detectives left the cafeteria and drove back to their own office.

After they had reported to Stillman what the autopsy had produced, Chris disappeared behind his computer screen and Lilly went down into the basement where the cold case files were kept. She did not quite know herself what she was looking for, but she tried to trust her intuition. If she encountered something important, she would notice.

At least she hoped so.

Lilly went methodically through the shelves, starting with 1963 and working her way through the years. But apparently, nothing had ever happened in Deansville. The only case files mentioning Deansville were the report of an accident that had occurred in the town, one case of shoplifting that had resulted in an exchange of fire, and two missing persons, both found dead. Lilly took the cardboard boxes from the shelf and examined the contents, although she wasn't very confident. All four cases had occurred between 1963 and 1966, and none of them involved the _Outer Four_. The accident was only mentioned because the main suspect's alibi depended on it, but it belonged to an entirely different case. The second case had taken place in the center of Deansville - someone had tried to nip a few things from a small shop, the owner had intervened, and the thief had drawn a gun and fired. The owner had died two days later. Grievous bodily harm resulting in death. The perpetrator had never been caught, but Lilly doubted that it had anything to do with their case. The case of the two missing persons did not produce anything, either. Deansville was only mentioned because one of the victims had had an aunt who lived there, and who had been interrogated by the police.

Sighing, Lilly put everything back into the cardboard boxes and put them back on the shelves. For a moment she just stood in the middle of the aisle, arms akimbo, thinking hard. Then she turned on her heel and went back upstairs. How could she be so blind? Of course she wouldn't find anything down in the basement. This was an unsolved murder case, but since the body had not been found until yesterday, no one had _known _it was a murder case, and hence no one had laid an information about a murder. She had been looking in the wrong direction. She had to check on missing persons, not cold murder cases.

Mad at herself for thinking so slowly, Lilly rushed up the stairs and joined Chris at his terminal.

"Found anything?" she asked.

Chris had done the research about the four families. He turned around in his chair and took the printouts he had made.

"Be prepared for a little bit of history," he said with a wink. "The four houses were built in 1920 by William Jarvis, Thomas Donahue, Jacob Webster and George McLaren and their respective families. William and Anna Jarvis already had a son, Richard, who was born in 1917. Jonah Donahue, son of Thomas and Caroline Donahue, was also born in 1917. George McLaren and his wife Emily had their first son, Arthur, in 1921, and Jacob Webster took some time to get married to his Theresa. They had a son, Daniel, in 1927." He interrupted himself and glanced down on his papers. "I'm not gonna tell you everything about the other children," he said. "I think we can simply ignore the aunts and uncles."

"Go ahead," said Lilly with a nod.

"Well, the four families lived happily in their houses," Chris continued. "Since they all had at least one son, the succession was secure. When the founding fathers died, their firstborn sons inherited the houses and stayed there. Richard Jarvis was the first of them to get married. He and his Diane had their first son, James, in 1942. I guess that's Gabriel's mysterious brother," he remarked, and Lilly nodded. "Gabriel Jarvis was born two years later," Chris continued. "The next children arrived in 1946. Jonah and Teri Donahue had their daughter, Jordan, and Arthur and Sheila McLaren had Dylan. Graham Webster, son of Daniel and Sarah, was born in 1951, and Arthur and Sheila McLaren had another child in 1953, Sunday. And that's it. No further children."

"Must have been mighty hard for the Donahues," Lilly commented. "They didn't have a son, only a daughter. That means there'll be one familiy less in the next generation." She trailed off and gnawed on her lower lip. "We know that Diane Jarvis is still alive," she said. "What about the parents of the others?"

"Almost all are still alive," Chris replied. "The only ones who died are Richard Jarvis, in 1995, and Teri Donahue, in 1999."

"Gabriel's father and Jordan's mother," said Lilly musingly. "And all the others are still alive. They were about what, forty or fifty in the sixties. Maybe they can tell us something useful.

"Anything else, Chris?"

"Only things we knew before. Gabriel and Jordan are married and have one son, Alexander. The other children are unmarried."

"What did you find out about the elder Jarvis brother?"

"James," said Chris and flipped through his printouts. "He moved away in 1967. Last known residence in Seattle. I suppose he's still there, because he's the Managing Director of a five-star-restaurant."

"So this mysterious incident was just the fact that James Jarvis moved away?" Lilly asked. "I can't believe that."

"Try to see it through the other's eyes," said Chris. "They're the third generation of their families living there, and then James suddenly wants to move away. They might have felt betrayed or something."

"That's possible," Lilly agreed. "And James Jarvis isn't married, either?"

"Divorced." Chris looked closer. "Twice."

Lilly whistled. "Seems as if he wanted to prevent by all means that people noticed he's from the country."

"Seems as if he wanted to forget his past." Chris flipped again through the pages. "He moved across the whole country. From Deansville to Philly, to Detroit, to St. Louis, to Chicago, to Minneapolis, and then he ended up in Seattle."

"Once across from the East to the West," said Lilly. "Seems as if he wanted to get as far away from Deansville as possible. Talking to him could be interesting. Something must have happened that made him move away."

"And there's only one way to find out," said Chris. "Let's go back to Deansville, Lilly."


	5. Natalya

**Chapter Four - Natalya**

Sunday McLaren was standing in front of her house when Chris pulled the car to the curb and shut off the engine. Lilly got out of the car and waved hello, and Sunday promptly came over to greet them.

"Detectives," she said. "I almost expected you to return."

"Hello, Ms. McLaren," said Lilly.

"Oh no, please call me Sunday," Sunday protested. "I'm allergic to that Miss-Mrs.-Ms. thing."

"Alright, Sunday." Lilly smiled.

Sunday looked at her and then at Chris. "Do you want to meet anyone specific?" she asked. "You caught a bad day; almost everyone went out. I'm not working today, but Dylan and Graham are, of course, and Jordan went to talk to the owner of some gallery."

"Nevermind," said Chris. "We didn't think about anyone in particular to talk to."

"I'll do, then?" Sunday smirked. "Well, then why don't you come inside? I've just prepared a pot of tea for my parents, and I'm sure they'll share it with you."

"Your parents live with you?"

"Of course!" Sunday exclaimed and looked at Lilly with widened eyes. "They've lived here all their lives, so why should we evict them?"

Lilly grinned quietly at Sunday's choice of words. "Evict" was a rather strong term, but that was what it all came down to in the end, she supposed, when children put their parents into an old people's home.

"How are they?" she asked while she was following Sunday into the house.

"Fine," said Sunday. "My dad's become very frail and forgetful, but hey, he's eighty-two years old. And it's not that he's got Alzheimer's disease or something. He's just a little bit senile."

She opened a door and led the two detectives into a kitchen of copious dimensions. At the far end was a table, two benches and a few chairs, two of which were occupied by Sunday's parents, Arthur and Sheila. Sheila turned her head when Sunday and the detectives entered the kitchen.

"Darling, why didn't you tell us that you were expecting guests?"

"They're not exactly guests, Mom. They're detectives from the Philadelphia police. They're here because of the body that was found yesterday."

"Ah, I see." Sheila McLaren nodded at Lilly and Chris. "Spooky, isn't it? Thinking that we were living next to a grave all those years..."

"That's why we're here, ma'am." Lilly covered the distance with a few steps and shook the old lady's hand. "My name is Lilly Rush, and this is my partner, Chris Lassing. How are you?"

"Fine, thank you, dear." Sheila McLaren smiled. "The air out here is wonderful. I feel ten years younger than I actually am. Sit down and have cup of tea with us."

"Thank you." Lilly sat down on the bench, leaving enough space for Chris to sit down beside her. Sheila poured her a cup of tea and placed it in front of her. "Sunday, child, come and join us," she said to her daughter.

When Sunday and Chris had also sat down, Lilly took a breath and started to explain why they had come.

"It is crucial that we learn what happened here in this time," she ended. "Could you give us a summary of the events in these ten years? Anything you can think of. Anything could be a trace."

Sheila McLaren looked at her daughter. "You were just about ten in 1963," she said. "Do you recall anything special?"

Sunday smiled and shook her head. "I don't think so," she said. "I was only a child."

"Children often see things that adults overlook," Lilly reminded her. "They have another way of looking at the world."

"I can't say whether a memory comes from a specific year or not," Sunday said musingly. "It's all one huge blur, as far as the year is concerned. I remember everyone made a huge fuss about Vietnam... no, that was later. You see, I was pretty isolated from the rest. I went to school, of course, but the anti-war movement wasn't that strong in Deansville, either. And I can barely recall those few hippies at school. Sometimes I think I never really understood the time I grew up in."

"None of you joined the hippies, anyway," Sheila remarked. "And I don't think it would have made you happier, Sunny."

"Agreed," said Sunday. "It was good the way it was."

"We don't want to know about political events," Lilly clarified. "We want to know what happened here, right here, in this little community."

"I can't think of anything special," Sunday said again. "I mean, apart from the fact that Jamie left, of course." Her smile faded. "But that was in '67."

"Could you tell us a little bit about that?" Lilly asked.

Sunday hesitated. "Don't you think you should ask Gabe..."

"I'm asking you. I'll ask Gabriel as well, but I'd like to know all aspects. I'm sure you'll focus on different things than Gabriel."

Sunday sighed and did not seem to know where to begin.

"It all started with this housemaid," Arthur McLaren suddenly cut in. Lilly jumped and looked at the old man. She had not expected that he would keep track of their conversation.

"No, Dad," said Sunday hastily, but her eyes avoided Lilly's.

"What housemaid?" Lilly asked.

Sunday dismissed the ominous housemaid with a move of her hand. "My dad's mixing up things," she said. "Dad, we're talking about Jamie."

"Yes," Arthur insisted. "Jamie and the housemaid."

"But Dad, that was only a rumor!"

"Mr. McLaren, would you tell us what you're talking about?" Chris asked Arthur.

Sunday wanted to protest, but Lilly shook her head. "I said anything might be important," she said. "This is the first time we hear of a housemaid. Who was this housemaid?"

Sunday sighed impatiently. "I think she was Russian. She was working for the Jarvis family, and one night she disappeared. Together with a few dollars cash and the Jarvis's car. Jamie left shortly after that; I suppose that's why my dad mentioned it."

"And what was the rumor about Jamie and the housemaid?" Chris wanted to know.

Sunday's expression was angry. "That was just a rumor," she said. "I don't think there was anything to it. It just emerged because this Russian woman was very good-looking, and Jamie was twenty-four years old. I suppose they just thought that if there was a man in her life, Jamie was most likely."

"Why Jamie?"

"Because this woman lived with the Jarvis's, I suppose. And she hardly ever went out. Or something like that." Sunday looked at Lilly. "I was only thirteen back then. I can't remember her very clearly."

"But you do remember that there was a housemaid, and that she disappeared."

"Yes, of course. Rick and Diane were pretty upset. She was an immigrant, and they had treated her very kind. They gave her the job as a housemaid, but they never ordered her about or anything. They always said that she could stay as long as she wanted until she had found a better job. And what does that bitch do? Sneaks out one night, steals the money and the car, and makes for the hills. Isn't that ingrate?"

"You seem to be pretty upset, too," Chris remarked.

"That's because I felt with the Jarvis's, and I still do. And besides, it's the only thing about her that I remember. As I said, I was thirteen. Of course, it was quite a sensation."

"Did anyone ever see her again?"

Sunday shook her head. "I suppose she found some poor, harmless man and manipulated him into marrying her, so that she could stay in the States without any problems. Who knows, maybe she changed her name and went to Hollywood."

"So you'd say she was scheming?"

Sunday nodded.

"But you don't remember her name."

"Her name was never important to me. I didn't like her, and I don't think she even knew who I was. I was a little girl, not a good-looking man."

"But you were just saying that there was no man in her life, and now it sounds more like she was mad for men. Did you really tell us the truth, Sunday?" Lilly looked sharply at the other woman.

"I said that there was nothing between her and Jamie, but that doesn't mean that she didn't try," Sunday corrected. "She tried it all the time, not only with Jamie. Gabe and Dylan also suffered from her advances."

"But they didn't surrender?"

"No, never!" Sunday said determinedly. Then she frowned. "Why are you so interested in her?" she asked. "You don't think that's her out there, do you?"

"Why not?" Lilly replied. "Who tells you that she really left? Who tells you that she hasn't been here all these years?"

Sunday shuddered. "That's spooky," she said. "I'd rather not imagine that. But once again, you're barking up the wrong tree, Detectives. She left in the dead of night, and she stole the car and the money."

"Ah yes, the car," said Chris. "That's of course counterevidence."

Sunday looked at Chris with narrowed eyes. "I don't like this undertone," she said. "Do you think I'm lying to you?"

"No one says you're a liar," Lilly calmed her down. "We're just trying to reconstruct what happened, and so far this mysterious housemaid is the only lead we've got. Even more so because she left and no one has seen her since."

"But that's illogical," Sunday protested. "I mean, let's assume it _is_ her out there, then who do you think could have done it? Surely you don't think it was one of us. Who would have had a reason to kill her?"

"Numerous possibilities," said Lilly. "Maybe she tried to blackmail someone. Or she had a past, and it caught up with her. Or..."

"Or it's _not_ her out there, and none of us had anything to do with it," Sunday interrupted her. "I mean, this is just impossible! She left, she must have left!" Panting, she trailed off. Tears welled in her eyes, and she wiped them away. Sheila reached out a hand and touched her shoulder.

"Darling, don't cry," she said, then she looked angrily at Lilly. "Look what you've done," she said reproachfully.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but that's my job." Lilly did not feel good when she said that.

"It's your job to make people cry?"

"No, of course not." Lilly was defensive. "But it's my job to find out the truth, and to consider all possibilities."

Sunday looked up. "I understand that, Detective Rush," she said. "I really do. But if you're right, then that means that one of us is a murderer! After all, it's not that this was an accident. Someone plotted her death, and he made it look as if she left. This is nothing that just happened; it involved a lot of planning - luring her out of the house at night, killing her, burying her, and then getting rid of the car and the money. Do really think that one of us would be able to plan the death of another person?"

"One of the first things you learn in my job is that almost everyone is capable of murder," said Lilly with a sad undertone in her voice. "Only the motives vary. A mother might kill to protect her child. A junkie might kill to get dope. A woman might kill for love. A man might kill for honor. A child might kill because he can't distinguish between right and wrong. And so on, and so on..."

Sunday remained silent, and Lilly felt worse and worse. "Look, I don't want to upset you," she said eventually. "But try to look at the situation through my eyes. I have a skeleton that was buried here in this neighborhood thirty years ago. It's only natural that I start asking questions. And then I learn about a woman who disappeared from this very neighborhood and was never seen again, in that exact period of time. Wouldn't you want to have a closer look?"

Slowly, Sunday nodded.

"Then please help me do my job," said Lilly. "Answer my questions and tell me everything you can think of."

Suddenly, Arthur lifted his head. "Natalya," he said clearly. "That was her name. Natalya Atrochenko."

Lilly gaped at him. This was the last thing she had expected.

"She was some woman," said Arthur and giggled. "Pretty bird, if you know what I mean."

"Arthur!" Sheila looked reproachfully at her husband.

"Mr. McLaren, you remember her?" Lilly tried not to let her excitement show. "Can you tell us anything more about her?"

But Arthur's chin had sunken down on his chest and he was dozing off.

"That happens all the time," Sunday explained. "I told you he's old, and the conversation has exhausted him."

"Mrs. McLaren?" Lilly looked at Sheila. "Do you remember anything about Natalya Atrochenko?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you more than Sunday did, Detective," said Sheila. "She lived with Rick and Diane for six months and did the household for them. She didn't talk much, probably because her English wasn't good. She looked good, that's true; very slender, with maroon hair and those large, dark eyes. I never noticed anything particular about her. Of course I saw how the boys looked after her..."

"Did you hear about the rumor?"

Sheila squirmed. "Well... yes, probably. But I never really believed it," she added hastily.

"Ha!" Sunday exclaimed. "You believed every word, Mom!"

"Well, but it was really very likely," Sheila defended herself.

"Still you shouldn't have. Jamie would never have done anything like that."

"A propos," Lilly cut in, "when exactly did Jamie leave?"

"A few months after Natalya disappeared," Sunday replied. "In March, I think."

"And why?"

"I don't know." Sunday's expression darkened. "I think he didn't tell anyone. He just packed his things one day and said he couldn't stand living here anymore. Said he needed some changes. He never came back." Sunday's voice sounded sad. "He wrote a postcard every now and then, but in all those thirty-six years he never visited us. He didn't even attend his father's funeral."

"This sounds as if there was a little bit more than just the need for a change," Chris remarked.

"As far as I know, there was never any argument," Sunday said, shrugging. "He and Gabe got along very well, and Diane and Rick were good parents. Jamie might have had his reasons, but he didn't tell anyone."

Lilly did not reply. She was trying to put the pieces together. A skeleton. A housemaid that disappeared without a trace. The first-born son who left the house and never returned. A rumor. A small community. But was it really so easy...?

"I think I don't have any further questions right now," she said. "Thank you for the tea, Sunday... Mrs. McLaren..."

"You're welcome," Sunday murmured mechanically.

Lilly and Chris said goodbye and left the house.

Back in the car, they looked at each other. "What do we do with this new information?" Lilly asked. "Is it safe to assume that the skeleton is Natalya Atrochenko? And what shall we think about Jamie?"

"Careful, Lilly," said Chris. "Don't get involved. You're developing feelings for these people."

"I can't help it, Chris." Lilly leaned back in her seat. "I can't help it, I like them. I feel as if I've known them for ages..."

"Lilly!"

"Alright, alright." Lilly pulled herself together. "So what shall we think about _James Jarvis_? Why do you think did he leave?"

"I'd love to say, because he killed her, but I've got the feeling that this is not so easy." Chris tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "But maybe he sensed that something had changed, that someone had a secret. Or he knew who did it, anyway, and left because he couldn't bear to see that person every day. Or he really just needed a change. I could understand that." Chris looked around. "I wouldn't last two weeks if I lived here."

Lilly smiled. "So what do we do now?" she asked.

"What's the time?" Chris looked at his watch. "It's twelve thirty. We could drive down to Deansville and visit Dylan McLaren in the bank. Or we could wait for Jordan Jarvis to come back from the gallery. Or we could disturb Gabriel Jarvis, but that could have fatal results if it's true what they say about writers at work."

"But we could visit Diane Jarvis," said Lilly. "After all, Gabriel Jarvis said she had such a good memory."

"But surely she won't gossip about her own son," Chris protested. "No, I'd say let's save the best for last."

"So what are we gonna do now?"

"Talk to Dylan," Chris decided. "He seems to be the least reserved; maybe he'll tell us a little bit more." He revved the engine and made a U-turn on the street. A moment later, they were heading for Deansville.


	6. Down in Deansville

Chapter Five – Down in Deansville 

"Detectives. What a nice surprise." Dylan shook Lilly's and Chris's hands. "Your timing is very good, I was just about to have my lunch break."

"Mind if we come with you?" Chris asked.

"No, not at all." Dylan led the way out of the bank and crossed the street. "There's a nice little restaurant just around the corner," he explained. "They make the best spare ribs in town."

"Sounds good," said Lilly, who hated spare ribs.

They entered the restaurant and found themselves a table in one corner. Dylan ordered spare ribs and a coke, while Lilly and Chris settled for mineral water and salad. While they were waiting for the food to be served, Lilly told Dylan everything she had told Sunday. Dylan's jaw dropped when Lilly mentioned Natalya Atrochenko.

"But that's impossible!" His reaction was almost the same as that of his sister. "Natalya left one night..."

"We think," Lilly cut in, "that someone _made_ it look as if she had left on purpose. We are pretty sure that the skeleton that was found is that of Natalya Atrochenko."

Dylan shook his head, his coke all but forgotten. "Natalya," he repeated. "Jesus, I haven't thought of her in ages. But she didn't stay very long, anyway. I think it wasn't more than half a year. My oh my, that was some woman!"

"Your father said the same thing," Chris remarked wryly.

Dylan grinned. "My dad always had an eye for pretty women. But he was harmless," he added hastily. "He was a real gentleman."

"Mr. McLaren, please focus," said Lilly. "Tell us about Natalya Atrochenko."

Dylan pondered for a second. "I liked her," he said. "She was always nice and friendly. Her English wasn't very good, but it was getting better and better. Rick taught her, you know. He used to be a teacher. Natalya learned pretty fast."

"How old was she?"

"Twenty-three," said Dylan. "I know that because we celebrated her birthday in November."

Lilly and Chris exchanged a glance. November. Born in 1943. It was as good as certain that the skeleton really was Natalya Atrochenko.

"What else do you remember?" Lilly asked. "Was she shy or coy? Modest? Extravagant?"

"She was normal," said Dylan, shrugging. "She wasn't exactly shy, but she wasn't much of an extrovert, either. Somewhere in between. She always said hello when we met, and sometimes we'd talk for a little while."

"Did you find her attractive?"

Dylan laughed. "Detective, I was twenty years old," he said. "The only girls I saw regularly were Jordan and my sister. I'd probably have found any girl attractive, just because I really needed a change. But Natalya really was attractive. She had those wonderful eyes, like a doe, and her hair was soft. And the greatest thing was that she wasn't arrogant or anything. At least not more than Jordan or Sunny. Well, Sunny was still a child," he amended. "But unfortunately, Natalya never fancied me. She preferred someone else, if you take my meaning."

"Jamie Jarvis." It wasn't a question.

Dylan nodded. "Sunday still insists that this was only a rumor, and that there was nothing between Jamie and Natalya, but frankly, I don't know why she denies it so vehemently. I mean, it was pretty obvious. Jamie was twenty-four years old, very good-looking, and very mature for his age. It was only natural that she felt attracted by him. And moreover, Gabe and Graham and I, we were all younger than her."

"You think that would have been a problem?"

"Most women like older men," said Dylan with a shrug. "Don't you, Detective Rush?"

Lilly was a little taken aback, but she did not hold it against Dylan. "Depends," she said evasively.

"Your sister described Natalya as scheming and men-crazy," Chris remarked. "That doesn't seem to fit your description of her."

"Did Sunny really say that?" Dylan shook his head in surprise. "I didn't have the impression that she was always chasing after the men. She hardly ever went out, and I can't remember that she ever tried to make a pass at me or Graham."

"Your sister said she did."

"Sunny must've mixed things up," Dylan said determinedly. "Or maybe she really thought so. I mean, she was only thirteen years old. Maybe she thought a smile was an unmistakable signal."

"She didn't seem to be mixing things up. She said Natalya was trying all of you, but you never reacted."

Dylan sneered. "It was more the other way around," he said. "_She_ turned her back on _us_. But in a friendly way," he added hastily. "She just made us understand that she already had her eyes set on someone else."

"What about the other thing your sister said? That Natalya was scheming?"

"Scheming... well, I thought until yesterday that she made for the hills with the car and the money, so I thought of course she was scheming - in retrospect, I mean. But apart from that, I never had the impression of her being such a bitch. And if it's really her out there, then I suppose she was a poor thing rather than a scheming monster."

"What can you tell us about Jamie? Why did he leave?"

"No one knows." Lilly had expected this answer. "He just left."

"Any guesses?"

"Chasing after his lover? Chasing butterflies?" Dylan shrugged. "I really don't know, Detective."

Lilly sighed and focused on another question. "Can you tell us anything in general about Jamie?" she asked. "What kind of guy was he?"

"He was the coolest," said Dylan with warmth. "He was the oldest of us, so we all kind of looked up to him. He was very creative, and it never got boring when he was with us. He loved Gabe, and the two of them got along very well. They were perfect brothers, if you take my meaning. They hardly ever quarreled. They were very similar in many ways. People who didn't know them sometimes mistook them for twins, because they looked so much alike. Jamie was two years Gabe's senior, but that didn't show. They had simlilar faces, the same way of talking and walking, and their whole appearance was somewhat, well, alike."

"But isn't it even stranger then that Jamie just left although he apparently had no problems at all? I mean, something must have happened that changed everything, or else he would at least have kept in touch, wouldn't he?" Lilly could not let it lie.

Dylan remained silent for a while. "There _was_ a change," he said eventually. ""In the months after Natalya had left, Jamie seemed more... reserved, he didn't talk as much as usual, and he laughed less. He withdrew from us. I always thought it was 'cause he was disappointed in Natalya, and that he just needed some time to deliberate, you know, recover from the shock 'cause she was his lover. He no longer spent much time with the rest of us. He'd stay outdoor all day and come home late, and even Gabe could no longer get through to him. At first we tried, but he kept rejecting us. The only one he was still treating as usual was Sunny. Maybe because she was the youngest of us. He also seemed restless; he even started talking to himself when he thought no one else was around. And he was kinda nervous, especially when Gabe was around. He'd cast him those oddly furtive looks. Really, he was behaving strange."

"But none of you thought there was a connection to Natalya's disappearance?"

Dylan gaped at Lilly. "You're not trying to imply that Jamie killed her and buried her, are you?" he asked. "No, no, no! That's completely ridiculous!"

"Can you offer us a better explanation?" Lilly asked.

"I can't sneak into Jamie's mind," Dylan replied, and there was an edge in his voice that clearly signaled that the conversation was starting to annoy him. "But Jamie, for crying out loud! You're barking up..."

"... the wrong tree, I know," Lilly interrupted. "Your sister told us the same."

"You should believe her," Dylan said. "After all, we knew Jamie. And I can tell you that of all people in the world, Jamie is the last to commit a murder."

"Very well," said Chris. "So this is all you can tell us about the past events?"

"I've got nothing more to say," Dylan said frostily. "You shouldn't run around and accuse the only person that's not here to defend himself."

"So maybe you'd prefer it if we accused you?" said Chris. "Maybe Jamie is just a pawn in your game. Maybe you killed Natalya and made it look as if it was Jamie..."

Dylan flushed with anger. He out down his knife and fork and took a deep breath. "This is unbelievable!" he burst out. "I'm trying to help you, and all you do is come up with even more obscure accusations! I resent that!"

"No one's accusing you," Lilly said. "Chris just showed you that we're not focusing only on Jamie. We're trying to get a picture of what things were like in your community. I can assure you that we're very careful. And after all, a suspicion is not the same as an accusation."

Dylan calmed down. "This is all very well, Detectives," he said, "but still: maybe you should look for the criminal somewhere else. I don't believe that anyone of us had anything to do with this, and that's my last word." And with this, Dylan returned to his spare ribs.

**XXX**

It was about two p.m. when Lilly and Chris went back to their car. They hadn't found out anything more from Dylan, who had spent the rest of his lunch break in a huff. After he had returned to the bank, Lilly and Chris had remained in the restaurant to discuss what they had found out, but they had not come to any conclusion. So they had decided to drop by the sheriff's office, which was where they were now headed.

"Do you think he can tell us anything more than Dylan and Sunday?" Lilly asked.

"Doubtful," Chris admitted and started the engine. "But still I've got the feeling that the solution is there just before our eyes. We're only looking in the wrong direction."

"If you say so..." Lilly sighed. She had felt strange all day. Never before had she had such a feeling about a case. For the first time in her career, Lilly Rush doubted that she could solve her case.

"Hey," said Chris and looked at her. "Please don't be so gloomy. We're gonna work it out. I promise you this."

"I don't even know if I _want_ this case to be solved," Lilly burst out. "Why couldn't those construction workers start digging somewhere else? I don't want to stir up the past. Sometimes I hate my job! It seemed to be such a nice and peaceful community, and now everything's turned upside down. Why can't we let sleeping dogs lie?"

Chris stared at her in disbelief. "Lilly, you're out of your mind," he said. "What about the things you told me yesterday? That you wanted to help people see that justice is done?"

"Justice!" Lilly sneered. "People get wary. They'll start reconsidering things, and soon no one will be trusting the others anymore. Dylan will suspect Jordan, and Gabriel will suspect Sunday, and Graham will suspect Jamie... Do you think that's fair, Chris? Their community will break apart. And if we can't solve the case, the shadow of suspicion will remain above every one of them!"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Chris raised his voice. "What about justice for Natalya? For thirty years, everyone believed that she was a thief and a bitch who betrayed the trust of her host family, while she had in fact not gotten any further that half a mile. She was brutally murdered for a reason we still have to learn, and you just feel sorry for the suspects. Is that your understanding of justice, Lilly?" His eyes were blazing now.

Lilly felt a pang of guilt. Chris was right, of course he was. She did not understand herself. Normally she was the first to feel for the victim. Why not this time? She blamed it on the weather and her headache.

"Lilly, please, look at me," Chris pleaded. "You mustn't develop such feelings for our primary suspects. Think of the victim. Think of Natalya, Lilly. The reason why you're still working on the cold cases is that you want to help the victims, not the suspects. You must help me solve this case. I can't do it without you."

Lilly's heart cringed at the words of her partner. He was right. She could not let him down. She could not let Natalya down. She just had to brace herself against the feelings she had for the _Outer Four_. When the case was solved and the real perpetrator was caught, everything would be easier. But up until then, she simply could not allow herself to think that, under different circumstances, she would probably have made friends with Sunday, Jordan and the others.

"It's OK, Chris," she said huskily. "You're right. I'm sorry. You're absolutely right. We'll solve this case."

"That's my girl," said Chris. His tone was joking, but Lilly felt the truth behind his words. Chris was glad to have her back. For a moment, she had to restrain herself not to fall around his neck.

"I want this case to be solved, Lilly," said Chris silently. "More than anything else." There was an unusual touch of solemnity in his voice that startled Lilly.

"Together we'll manage," she said.

Chris smiled. They continued the rest of the way in silence until they had reached the sheriff's office. Chris parked the car, and they entered the building.

Lucy Johnson was sitting at a desk. She looked up when they entered and smiled.

"Been expecting you," she said. "Sunday called about an hour ago and said you were here again. I reckon you guys wanna talk to Graham."

"If he's available."

"Sure he is." Lucy grinned. "This skeleton is the only case he has. But it's taking up all of his time. I don't think he ever had to deal with such a load of reporters."

Lilly grinned quietly. This "load of reporters," as Lucy had put it, consisted of two reporters from the _Deansville Telegraph_ and two from a Philadelphia newspaper. A local TV channel had filmed a little bit earlier this morning, but Lilly doubted that anyone outside of Philadelphia had heard the story on the news. Deansville was not important enough to make it to CNN.

"But now he has time," Lucy continued. "Wait a sec, I'll tell him you're here." She rose from her chair and went to another door in the back of the room. She knocked, opened the door, stuck her head in and said, "The detectives are here, Graham."

"Send them in, Lucy," Graham said.

Lucy turned around and waved at Lilly and Chris. "You heard him," she said. "Go in."

Lilly and Chris entered Graham's office. Graham was sitting behind a huge desk that was almost frighteningly clean. A single folder lay in the middle. The walls of Graham's office were covered with an odd mixture of pictures, books, posters and souvenirs. Lilly spotted a rusty shotgun on the wall that was covered in cobwebs, and below there hung a copy of Carl Sandburg's famous poem:

_"There will be a rusty gun on the wall, sweetheart,_

_The rifle grooves curling with flakes of rust._

_A spider will make a silver string nest in the darkest, warmest corner of it. _

_The trigger and the range-finder, they too will be rusty._

_And no hands will polish the gun, and it will hang on the wall._

_Forefingers and thumbs will point absently and casually toward it._

_It will be spoken among half-forgotten, wished-to-be-forgotten things._

They will tell the spider: Go on, you're doing good work."

"I'm glad you came," said Graham as soon as they had passed the threshold. "Sunday called and said you asked her all sorts of questions about Jamie and Natalya Atrochenko. Do you really think that's her?"

"It's almost certain," said Lilly. "The age matches, and so does the time. Moreover, the pathologist founda piece of jewelry with a date around her neck. The date is November 11, 1943."

Graham bit his lower lip. "That's her birthday, right," he said. "I remember we celebrated it together."

"Sheriff, why didn't you tell us right away about Natalya?" Lilly blurted out. "You could have saved us a lot of time. But instead we only learned this morning about her, and that was only by chance."

"This may sound strange to you," said Graham, "but I think that we all just didn't believe that the skeleton could have anything to do with the old story. Look, we've known each other all our lives, and the thought that one of us was a murderer never crossed our minds. So we all tried to think of something that happened outside of our community, and of course there was nothing."

"Still it would have been your duty," said Lilly sternly. "I made it clear enough that I wanted to know everything that was out of the ordinary."

"I'm sorry," said Graham simply. "None of us meant to obstruct justice, and least of all did I. heck, I'm the police myself!" He looked so guilty that Lilly started to feel sorry for him.

"Well, we found out, after all," she said soothingly. "But so far it didn't help us. We talked to Sunday and to Dylan, and although they have completely different opinions on Natalya, it all comes down to the fact that you all thought that she made for the hills, and that Jamie behaved strangely and left a few months after the incident."

"That's true," said Graham, "and I know that Jamie is probably your prime suspect. But I can only tell you what I suppose Sunny and Dylan have already told you as well: Jamie would never kill anyone, and especially not like this. He would never plan and encompass the death of another person."

"It's not that Jamie is the only suspect," Chris remarked. "There might be more complex motive behind the crime that we still have to discover."

Graham straightened. "I understand, Detectives," he said with a dignity that struck Lilly. "I know how the police works. You have to consider all possibilities, and that means that our whole community is under suspicion. This includes me as well, I fear. I was but a child of fifteen years when Natalya disappeared, but I understand that you can't just trust my word - although I know, of course, that I never did anything to her. Therefore I think it is better if I declare myself biased and retreat from the case."

Lilly nodded slowly. "That might really be better, Sheriff," she said silently. "I'm sorry."

Graham smiled faintly. "Well, it has some advantages," he said bravely. "This way, I don't have to interrogate my best friends."

"You're doing the right thing, Graham," said Lilly. "Leave the investigation to us. I'm sorry that we have to exclude you, but you know the rules. We must treat you as a suspect, and therefore we are not allowed to keep you informed about the latest developments in the case."

"As long as you solve it, I'll be fine," said Graham. "You can still work with my deputy if you need any additional personnel."

"We appreciate your cooperation, Sheriff," said Lilly. "Again, I'm sorry."

"Again, nevermind." Graham smiled. "For the record: I hereby declare myself biased and hand the investigation over to the detectives Rush and Lassing from the Philadelphia Homicide Squad. They shall have the sole authority in all questions concerning the case."

"Nice speech," Lilly commented. "Thank you, Graham."

"Anytime, Detectives." If Graham was feeling bad about it, then he concealed it very well. "And now I suggest you go back to the community and continue interrogating your suspects."

"I'm afraid we'll have to." Lilly turned around and went to the door. Chris followed.

"Good luck, Detectives," Graham said when they had reached the door.

Lilly nodded, and they left the building. Back in the car, Lilly heaved a deep sigh. "That was nasty," she said.

"He kept his composure really well." Chris was impressed. "I think we underestimated him. He's not as naïve as he may seem."

"Let's get it over with," said Lilly. "Let's go back and see it Jordan has returned."

"I just wanted to suggest the same thing." Chris smiled and started the engine.

They reached the four houses about ten minutes later and parked the car before the Jarvis's house. Lilly got out of the car and rang the doorbell, but no one answered. Apparently, Jordan was still in the gallery, and Gabriel was working on his book. So Lilly returned to the car and got in again.

"No one's home," she reported. "Or rather: I guess Gabriel and Diane are home, but they don't care for any visitors right now."

"I can't even hold it against them," said Chris.

"So what shell we do instead?" Lilly asked. "Try every door and see if anyone wants to talk to the intruders? Or just wait here in the car until Jordan returns?"

Chris pointed through the windshield at a yellow bus that came down the street. "Maybe Alex Jarvis would like to talk to us."

"But he can't tell us anything."

"He's Jamie's nephew," said Chris. "Sometimes people react very strangely when a new family member arrives, and since Jamie doesn't have any children, he might see his chance in Alex."

Lilly looked at her partner. "You did it, too."

"Did what?"

"You called him Jamie."


	7. Many Theories and Few Leads

Chapter Six – Many Theories and Few Leads 

Alex Jarvis stepped off the bus, waved back at someone and then came walking down the street. He stopped when he recognized Lilly and Chris.

"Hello, Alex," Lilly said.

"Hello," Alex replied. He narrowed his eyes and looked at them. "What is it?"

"We were wondering if we could talk to you for a sec." Lilly pointed at Alex's rucksack. "School's out, eh?"

"Yeah..." Alex seemed wary.

"Have you got a lot of homework?"

"Depends," Alex mumbled. He looked back over his shoulder.

"Anything wrong, Alex?" Chris asked.

"No," said Alex. He looked up and directly at Lilly. "Listen, Detectives, I don't think I can tell you anything about the whole thing. I mean, she was buried when I was still sitting with my harp on a cloud." He turned around and made as to leave, but Chris blocked his way.

"What's wrong, Alex?" he asked. "Why do you react this way? Any normal teenager would be excited about the whole thing, especially in an area like this where nothing ever happens. And they would probably follow us everywhere we go."

"Well, I'm not any normal teenager," Alex replied angrily. "All I know is that you keep turning up, asking questions about things..." He trailed off.

"Alex, I believe there's something you're trying to hide from us," Lilly said rather bluntly. "Maybe you think it's got nothing to do with the investigation, but remember that it's not for you to decide that."

"I'm not hiding anything." Alex avoided Lilly's gaze.

"How do you know the skeleton was a woman's?" Chris suddenly asked, and Alex jumped.

"I... I..." he stammered.

"Don't deny it," Lilly said. "You referred to the skeleton as _she_. How do you know that?"

Alex faltered. "I heard when Graham told Matt," he said. "I stopped by at Graham's office this morning, and the door was open. Lucy wasn't there, so I..."

"You decided to eavesdrop," Chris said.

Alex blushed. "There ain't no eaves at the sheriff's office," he joked half-heartedly.

"Quoting Tolkien won't make us change the subject, Alex," Chris said sternly, but there was a glint in his eye. Lilly couldn't help admiring how easily Chris dealt with the boy.

"Come on, Alex, let's go somewhere where no one can eavesdrop on us," Chris said bracingly.

Alex hesitated. "Supposing I tell you... do you necessarily have to tell my dad?"

"We'll decide that afterwards," Lilly said. "But if it's what we think, then I don't think it's necessary that he learn."

Alex seemed a little relieved and followed the detectives back to their car. They got inside, Alex in the back seat.

"Care for a donut?" Chris produced a paper bag with two donuts. Lilly had to suppress a grin. She had the strong suspicion that he had gotten them especially for such a situation. After all, it was the most common cliché about the police.

Alex shook his head, and Chris shrugged. "You're better off," he said with a wink. "These donuts must be a week old." He put the bag back into the glove compartment and shut it. Then he turned around in the driver's seat and looked at the boy. "And now think hard, Alex. Is there anything we should know?"

Alex swallowed. "I hate to tell you this," he said. "I gave my word not to tell anyone."

"This is a special situation," said Lilly. "I'm sure you'll be forgiven."

"And you're not gonna tell my dad? Really?"

"As I said, we'll decide that afterwards."

"But you already seem to know what I'm about to tell you."

Lilly smiled. "Let's say, I have a hunch."

Alex swallowed again. "Alright," he said then. "The others all told you that my uncle Jamie left Deansville and never came back, and that he cut all the connections. But that's not quite true. He contacted me about two years ago. Secretly. He said I wasn't supposed to tell anyone, that it was our secret. He said he didn't want to have anything to do with my dad and the others anymore, but that it was different with me."

"Different? What did he mean?"

"I dunno," said Alex. "He said something about the next generation, and that our four families were beginning to die out 'cause none of the others were married. Only the Jarvis's survived. That's what he said."

"Very cryptic," Chris commented.

"How did the two of you get in touch?" Lilly asked. "Did you write letters or e-mails, or did you speak on the phone?"

"Mostly we e-mailed," said Alex. "Jamie didn't want to write letters 'cause he thought Dad might recognize his handwriting. And Sunday works in the post office; she could have seen the letter, too. My e-mail is private."

"But how did he find out your e-mail address in the first place?"

"He called at my school and pretended he was Dad," Alex said. "Asked the secretary to check whether they had my new e-mail address in my file and got her to read it out loud to him. Easy as that." There was a hint of pride in his voice.

"Very savvy," said Chris. "I suppose the secretary doesn't know your dad."

"She does," said Alex, "but Jamie and Dad look very much alike, and their voices also sound similar. I suppose even I would think he was Dad if he just called without saying his name."

"How do you know they look alike?" Lilly asked. "Don't tell me you've met him."

"No, but he told me." Alex smiled. "He told me a lot."

"Did he also tell you why he left back then?"

Alex shook his head. "No, that's the only thing he doesn't wanna talk about. Not at all. He only said that he had a decision to make, and that he decided to leave, and that it was the best he could do under the circumstances. But I don't know what kind of circumstances he meant."

"Could you give us his address?"

Alex shook his head energetically. "I can't do that," he said determinedly. "I've already betrayed his trust because I told you this. But I'm not gonna give you his address. You're cops; I'm sure you can find it out yourselves."

Lilly did not know whether she should be angry, amused or impressed. Strange, the youth of today, she thought. Some of them had surprisingly strong principles. They never betrayed their friends, and they kept their word.

"I understand that," Chris said in this moment. "We're gonna find out by ourselves. And don't worry, Alex. You haven't betrayed his trust."

"When did you last speak to him or write him an e-mail?" Lilly wanted to know.

"The day before yesterday," said Alex.

"So he doesn't know yet what happened here? Why didn't you tell him right away?"

"I didn't have the time." Alex was losing his patience. "Look, I told you what I tried to hide. Can I go now?"

"Yes," said Chris. "And if you want some advice: tell Jamie what happened, and I mean everything. Tell him also what you told us. You'll see, he'll understand you."

Alex's look was skeptical. He said goodbye and got out of the car. Without looking back, he headed for his house.

"Wow," said Lilly and turned to her partner. "I'm surprised. Where did you learn that?"

"Learn what?"

"Dealing with teenagers."

"Nephews," said Chris with a shrug. "My sister has sixteen-year-old twin boys."

"I see." Lilly winked. "Rehearsing for your own kids, are you?"

"First a wife, then kids," Chris replied in the same tone. "And right now I'd prefer to talk about the case at hand."

"Fine." Lilly leaned back in her seat. "What have we learned from Alex's story?"

"Quite a lot, actually," said Chris. "We just have to read between the lines."

"Exactly," Lilly agreed. "We know now that Jamie hasn't forgotten his family; in fact, he misses them so much that he secretly created a link between him and the rest."

"He wants to avoid any direct contact with his brother," Chris mused, "so he gets in touch with his nephew. If only we knew his motives."

"Various possibilities," said Lilly. "Maybe he just wants to know how his family is doing without having to ask them personally. Through Alex he learns everything that's going on here."

"That tells us a lot about his pride," said Chris. "Thirty years, and still he can't make the first step."

"Or he has been waiting for this very day," Lilly continued. "He knew that the skeleton would one day be discovered, and since he supposed the story wouldn't make it into the national news, he had to find a way to learn about it. So he contacted Alex under the pretext of renewing family bonds, but in fact he only used the boy as a source of information."

"This theory only applies if Jamie is our perp," Chris took over. "And it would mean that he's anything but the nice fellow the others described."

"I don't really believe this theory," Lilly said thoughtfully. "It's too easy."

"That's what I've been saying all day," Chris agreed. "What other explanations do we have?"

"Psychological reasons," Lilly said promptly. "He doesn't have any children, right? So he contacts Alex, the closest thing to a son he'll ever have, and tries to get an impression of what it's like to be a father. And if he finds it too exhausting, he can just hang up the phone or close his mailbox. This way he can keep a safe distance between himself and his 'son'."

"It doesn't match his profile, though," Chris said. "Everyone described him as mature, intelligent, creative and good-natured. A person with these characteristics is most likely neither cowardly nor scheming. That revokes theories two and three..."

"... but it supports theory number one," Lilly finished. "If Jamie really is the person he was described as - and I don't see why it shouldn't be so - then pride is certainly a main aspect of his character."

"So let's assume theory number one is correct," Chris said. "He actually wants to see his family again, but he's too proud to take the first step. What do you want to do?"

"I don't know." Lilly felt silent and gnawed at her lower lip. "Maybe I won't do anything right now," she said eventually. "We'll ask Nick to find Jamie in Seattle and talk to him. Maybe he can make Jamie return, at least to Philly. And then we could arrange a meeting for Jamie and Alex. This may give Jamie some motivation."

"Jamie is the key to everything," Chris mused. "If he tells us why he left then everything else will fall into place. I'm sure."

"So am I." Lilly stretched and looked at her watch. "It's past four," she said. "Let's go home, Chris. We can talk to Jordan tomorrow. And we still have the older generation."

"You're right." Chris yawned. "I'm tired, too." He started the engine and pulled the car away from the curb. "Let's go home, partner."

**XXX**

"Detective Vera has been on the phone for hours," Stillman said when Lilly entered the office on the next morning. "He's trying to reach James Jarvis, but apparently that's not as easy as it seems. I sincerely hope that you're not planning to involve him completely in your case. Don't forget that he has another case to solve."

"Don't worry, sir." Lilly smiled. "He just owed me a favor."

"I don't have any objections as long as he doesn't neglect his own work," Stillman clarified. "I know you have a good reason to engage his help."

"Thank you for your trust, sir," Lilly said. "That's true. Vera is simply the best when it comes to getting witnesses to break their silence."

"I see." Stillman nodded. "Then good luck, Detective Rush."

Lilly nodded thank you and made her way to Chris's desk.

"Morning," her partner said. He offered her a smile, and Lilly smiled back.

"Any results yet from Nick?" she asked.

He's still on the phone with Seattle," Chris answered. I told him to come here and report to us in the instant he hangs up the phone."

"Uh-huh." Lilly grinned. "And you used those exact words, I suppose?"

"Not really," Chris admitted. "But that was the essence of what I said to him."

"I see." Lilly leaned against Chris's desk, and they waited in comfortable silence for Nick to appear.

About ten minutes later, the stocky detective joined them.

"Holy cow, this suspect of yours was pretty hard to find," he said. "I must have called at least ten different institutions, and ten very nice secretaries told me I just about missed Mr. Jarvis. He must be a very busy man."

"Apparently," said Chris, unperturbed. "But that's not what you were supposed to find out, Vera."

"Lassing, you're worse than any boss I've ever had," Nick complained. "And you _are _not even my boss."

"Go ahead, Nick." Chris grinned.

Grumbling, Nick went on. "Well, after forty-five minutes I finally got Jarvis on the line. He was very reserved when I mentioned Philly, and even more reserved when I mentioned Deansville. But when I said what a nice discovery was made there, he suddenly got all excited and demanded to know everything. I told him only what we told the press, and then I said that he would have to come back if he wanted to learn more about the case. But he just mumbled something about too much work and changed the topic."

"Did you tell him that he's a suspect?"

"Let's say, I implied it," Nick said. "I said we're pretty sure that we know whose skeleton we found, and that it would make a good impression if he returned to Philly for the time being until the case is solved. He sounded very nervous and said that he had to think about it 'cause he hasn't seen his family since '67, and blah, blah, blah. I didn't mention the nephew 'cause I thought I'd better leave that to you guys."

"Thanks a million, Nick," said Lilly and smiled at her colleague. "Now _I _owe _you_."

"Betcha," said Nick. "I also asked Jarvis quite bluntly why he left, and he refused to answer. Said it was a private matter that was none of my business."

"I can't even say he's wrong," Lilly murmured. Nick did not hear her, but Chris cast her a glance and slightly shook his head. Lilly returned the glance, but she was the first to lower her eyes. Nick did not notice what was going on between the partners.

"So now at least Jamie is informed," Lilly said eventually. "And now let's just sit and wait. I bet he'll call again when he has thought about it long enough."

"Sit and wait sounds good," Nick said. "I'll watch the phone, alright? If he calls, I'll just dispatch the call to one of your cell phones. You guys had better go back to Deansville and go on canvassing your witnesses."

"Is it your revenge because I ordered you about?" Chris asked with a smile.

Nick winked at him. "You got it, Lassing," he said.

"Boys, stop playing," Lilly cut in. "Chris, we have a job to do. Come on, let's get back to Deansville."

XXX 

"Detectives," said Sunday, who was again the first to see Lilly and Chris. "It's you again."

Chris offered one of his half-smiles. "But today we're leaving you alone, Sunday," he said.

"Still chasing after Jamie?" Sunday asked.

"We're following multiple leads," Lilly said evasively. "I'm sorry, but we're not allowed to give you more details about the investigation."

"I see." Sunday smiled, but it looked forced. "So who do you plan to target today?"

Lilly cringed secretly. Sunday's tone was joking, but Lilly felt that she was hurt. She would have loved to say something to the other woman that made it clear that she did not feel comfortable at all, intruding this peaceful neighborhood. But she had made a promise to her partner and to herself, and so she only smiled apologetically and headed for the Jarvis's house. When she rang the doorbell this time, Jordan opened. She did not seem surprised.

"Hello, Detectives," she said. "I was already wondering when I'd see you again. What can I do for you?"

"Actually we wanted to talk to your mother-in-law," Lilly said.

"Oh," said Jordan. "Well, she has some guests. My dad came over, and Sarah and Danny Webster. Sheila and Arthur McLaren wanted to come over, too."

"If they don't mind, we'd like to talk to all of them," Lilly said quickly. "In fact, it's even better this way. It saves us some time, and the others as well."

Jordan smiled politely. "Of course," she said. "I'll just go upstairs and tell them you're here. Come in." She stepped back from the door and let Lilly and Chris pass. Lilly had to restrain herself from going into the living room once again and have another look at the pictures. But she couldn't help peering through the door and catch at least a look at them. The intensity of the two counterparts still fascinated her.

"Shall I give you a reproduction of them for your birthday?" Chris asked with a wink.

Lilly jumped, then she grinned. "Am I that transparent?" she asked. "I can't help it. I really love them. They're somewhat... special. I haven't seen any of her other works, but these are definitely special."

"I'd never have thought that you'd convert into a fan of the fine arts," Chris remarked.

"I'm not a fan," Lilly protested. "But when I see those pictures, I can understand why some people are so fascinated with art."

"Maybe you should talk to Jordan about them," Chris suggested. "When the investigation is over, of course."

"Of course." Lilly sighed and turned away from the pictures. "I only wish that it already _was_ over."

"Who knows, maybe the tables will turn on us now," Chris said.

"I hope so." Lilly returned to her partner, and side by side they were waiting for Jordan to return.

A few minutes later they heard her come down the stairs.

"Diane and the others are waiting for you," she said. "You can go upstairs now."

"Thank you, Jordan." Lilly smiled and then went up the stairs. Chris followed.

They emerged into a corridor at the end of which there was a door that stood ajar. Voices could be heard from the room behind it, and Lilly headed for it. She knocked, and when someone called, "Come in!" she pushed the door open and entered.

Diane Jarvis lived in a small apartment that consisted of two rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom. The door through which they had entered led into the living room. In the middle there stood a large marble table, and a group of elderly people was assembled around it. A deck of cards lay scattered on the table; apparently Diane and the others had planned to play a game of bridge or hearts or canasta.

A tall, majestic woman with full white hair and amazingly dark blue eyes rose from her chair and came towards the detectives. Lilly supposed that she must be Diane Jarvis. Gabriel had her eyes, she noticed.

"Miss Rush and Mr. Lassing?"

Lilly nodded. Somehow she didn't think adding "Detective" in front of their names would make any kind of impression on this imposing woman.

"I'm Diane Jarvis. You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes, ma'am." Lilly had to pull herself together not to feel intimidated. Diane Jarvis had the bearing of a queen.

"These are my friends," said Diane and gestured at the others. "Jonah Donahue, Sarah Webster and Danny Webster."

Lilly nodded at the others. Jonah Donahue, the oldest in the group, actually bowed before her. His hair was white and thin and his face was deeply lined, but his eyes were still sparkling. Lilly could tell that his mind was still working excellently, although his body was beginning to fail him. His hands were trembling slightly.

Sarah Webster, the youngest, was sitting beside her husband, Danny. It took Lilly a moment to remember that these were Sheriff Webster's parents, but once she had remembered, she spotted the similarities between Graham and his father. Both had long faces and rather prominent noses, but whereas Danny had once been blond, Graham had inherited his mother's black hair. Sarah Webster's hair was going gray, but the original black color was still clearly recognizable.

"Sit down, Detectives," said Diane and pointed at two empty chairs.

Lilly and Chris obeyed.

"So," said Diane. "What is it you want to ask me?"

"We'd like to ask all of you," said Lilly. "I suppose that you all know why we're here and what we're about to ask."

"Jordan told us," Diane confirmed. "Is it true that you suppose the skeleton was Natalya Atrochenko?"

"It is as good as safe to assume that," said Lilly.

"So she didn't skedaddle, after all," said Diane. "In a way I am glad to hear that. I was very disappointed in her back then. Rick and I just didn't know what we had done wrong."

"From what the others told us, we concluded that Natalya felt very good here," Lilly said.

"Of course, it is a real tragedy that she was murdered instead," Diane continued as if Lilly had not interrupted her. "It would have been better for her, had she run off as we all thought."

"Well, ma'am, but it happened this way," said Lilly. "And all we can do now is try and find the one who did it. And my partner and I are hoping that maybe you could help us in doing so."

"You're concentrating on our families," Diane replied. "You're suspecting our children to be involved, isn't that true?"

"Not only your children, ma'am," said Lilly as politely as she could. "Everyone is a suspect. And we need your help to exclude those who are innocent from the investigation. Finding out who is not guilty is sometimes more important than finding the perpetrator. I know how distrust and wariness can brew, especially in such a small community."

"Then I hope we shall be of help to you," said Diane graciously. She adjusted herself in her chair and looked expectantly at the detectives. "Ask your questions."

"So far we haven't heard what exactly the circumstances of Natalya's disappearance were," Lilly began. "I suppose you remember it very well. Could you please tell us what was going on that day? Just give us an account of what you did and what the others did."

"Of course, Detectives." Diane leaned back in her chair and began.


	8. The Elder Generation

Chapter Seven – The Elder Generation 

"It was an ordinary day. A Tuesday, I remember that. January. The weather had been horrible all day; the January storm had us quite firmly in its grip. Graham and Sunday were in a very bad mood, because the school but was half an hour late and they had to wait for it in the storm. Sunday kept trying to persuade her parents to let her stay at home, but Sheila wouldn't give in.

"Natalya had gotten up early, as always, and spent the day doing the laundry. I remember that she was hanging up the clothes in the basement, but apparently she had started to smoke or something of the like, for when I came downstairs, the door was open and Natalya wasn't there. She returned about five minutes later and looked very guilty. She wouldn't tell me what she had been doing, but she apologized and said that it had been something important. But that doesn't have to mean anything; to Natalya everything was 'important'. That was one of the few words she had already known in English before she came to us. I finally gave up interrogating her, but I made her understand that she had to do her chores first. Afterwards she could smoke a whole package of cigarettes at once, as far as I was concerned. And then I went upstairs again, and Natalya finished the laundry and did some other chores, and then she had the rest of the day off. I remember I was looking after her when she went up the stairs because I found that something in her way of walking had changed. But I never found out exactly what it was.

"Gabriel was somehow depressed. Rick didn't notice anything about his son, but a mother knows when her children have a problem. But Gabriel didn't tell me anything, so I was assuming it was some kind of heartache. Maybe he had had a fight with Jordan. Gabriel and Jordan were almost engaged, you know. They had been a couple for more or less five years, and none of us doubted that they would one day get married. As you can see, Detectives, we were right."

"Never doubted it," Jonah Donahue repeated. "My Jordan found the right guy, didn't she, Diane?"

"Of course she did." Diane and Jonah smiled at each other. Then Diane continued her tale.

"I don't remember seeing Jordan on that day, so I supposed she had withdrawn and was working on her paintings. She had just started on oil paintings, so her motivation was still very high. She had already finished one and was working on a second one. I think you've seen them, Detectives. Both pictures are hanging downstairs in the living room."

"_The Tempest-Tossed_?" Lilly asked.

"Exactly." Diane nodded. "That was Jordan's first painting. It's wonderful, isn't it?"

Lilly nodded. "I don't know much about art but I know an extraordinary picture when I see one."

"You should talk to Jordan about the pictures when you're done here," Sarah Webster cut in. "It's great to talk to Jordan about art because she knows everything, but she has a way of not letting it show. When you talk to her, you always feel as if you understand every bit. The complex topic suddenly becomes understandable.

"I'd love to," said Lilly. "But first I've got to solve this case, so if you please, Mrs. Jarvis..."

"Where was I?" Diane pondered for a moment, then she remembered. "Ah, yes. As I said, Jordan was working on the second picture, and Gabriel was running around looking depressed... it was really not hard to tell that there was something wrong between them. But apparently they managed to sort it out by themselves, for a few weeks later they were as inseparable as always.

"Well, as the evening drew nearer, Natalya seemed to get a little bit nervous. I didn't really notice it at that time, but when I was reconsidering the events of the evening, I remembered that Natalya kept looking at her watch, and that she couldn't sit still for a minute. She had brought some needlework into the living room but she hardly looked at it. Rick taught her a few words and English grammar rules ever evening. but this evening she was so absent-minded that Rick gave it up after about half an hour. At nine o'clock, Natalya said goodnight and went to her room. She had a room on the ground floor in the back of the house and her own bathroom.

"I went to bed about an hour later, and Rick came a few minutes afterwards. Ten-thirty was our usual bed-time. When I was already starting to fall asleep, I heard a car."

Diane paused. "I suppose you have heard enough about my other son, James?" she said to Lilly.

"I don't know if we heard enough," Lilly replied, "but we know roughly who he is and how he was."

"He had an affair with Natalya," said Diane with surprising coolness. "Of course he tried not to make it obvious, but everyone knew it. I think in the end even Jamie no longer cared whether we knew it or not.

"What I was about to say was that the car I heard was Dylan's. He and Jamie had been to Deansville to meet the few friends they had in the town. But Jamie always returned in time for me to know he was back. He was very reliable. But what puzzled me was that I thought I heard him leave again some minutes later."

"What do you mean, you _thought _you heard him?" Lilly asked. "Did you hear him or not?"

Diane shook her head. "I thought I heard him," she said. "I was already dozing off, and then some time later I heard a car leave. I supposed in my half-sleep that it was Jamie, but of course I learned on the next day that it had in fact been our car, the one Natalya left with. Or rather: didn't leave," she amended. "But back then I thought, as everyone did, that Natalya had taken our car and run off. After all, how could we know..." She trailed off. "I'm ashamed, Detective," she said. "I'm ashamed that I ever thought that Natalya was capable of such a thing. I should have known better. She was such a nice and polite girl."

"Tell us what happened on the next day," Lilly said.

"Rick woke up and told me that the car was gone, and that there was not a trace of Natalya left." Diane sighed. "Her window was wide open, and her suitcase and personal belongings were gone as well. There was really only one conclusion we could draw from that. Of course, we called the police, but they didn't make us much hope. Such cases are very frequent."

"When did you notice that the money was gone as well?"

"I didn't notice that until a few days later. I used to keep a little bit of money in a tin box in the kitchen, for unexpected expenses. Natalya knew about it, of course, since she did some of the shopping. When I needed a few extra dollars a few days later, I noticed that the box was empty."

"How much was it?"

Diane shrugged. "Not much. Fifteen dollars, maybe twenty. Just a emergency provision."

"She wouldn't have come far with twenty dollars," Sarah Webster remarked.

"She didn't get anywhere," Chris reminded her. It was the first thing he said in this conversation.

"True," said Danny Webster. "So what happened to Rick's car, then?"

"Easy," said Lilly. "Whoever killed and buried Natalya, took the car and his it somewhere nearby, and on the next day or the day after, when the chances were good, he or she drove down to Philly and left the car somewhere downtown for the gangs to cannibalize it for parts. You leave a car there, and ten minutes later it's gone for good."

"I have another question," Chris cut in. "Mrs. Jarvis, do you sleep well at night, or are you easy to wake up?"

"Now or then?" Diane asked with a wink.

Chris smiled. "Back then, in the night in question," he said.

"I used to sleep very tight," Diane said. "Once I'd fallen asleep, a bomb could explode right beside my bed without me waking up."

"So you heard this car when you _were_ still awake; it didn't wake you _up_," Chris stated.

"That's correct." Diane had an amused glint in her eye.

"And how fast do you fall asleep?" Chris asked.

"Quite fast," Diane replied, now smiling. "I guess I never take longer than ten minutes to fall asleep."

"So it was by no means later than ten-thirty or ten forty-five when you heard the car."

"Certainly not, no."

"Thank you." Chris leaned back in his chair and nodded to Lilly. Lilly had vague idea of why Chris was asking these questions, but she did not elaborate.

"We'd like to know a little bit more about the people living here," she said. "How were the children getting along?"

"They were one huge group," said Sarah Webster. "We were all surprised, because the age difference was quite big - Sunday was the youngest, and Jamie the oldest, and they were eleven years apart. Sunny was thirteen when Natalya disappeared and Jamie twenty-four."

"Eleven years didn't prevent her from having a mighty crush on Jamie," Danny Webster remarked. "She followed him everywhere he went - if he let her, of course. He was always very nice to her, even in the months before he left."

"He liked her, too," Jonah Donahue cut in, "but of course she was only a child to him. And besides, he had his girl, after all."

"I suppose you've heard of that, Detectives?" Diane said rather sharply.

"Yes," said Lilly hastily. "We don't need to go into much detail about that. Let me just ask one question: did any of you ever doubt this rumor?"

Everyone in the room shook their heads.

"What else can you tell us about the children?" Lilly asked. "What kind of relationship was there between Natalya and the others?"

"Nothing of much interest," said Danny. "Sunday didn't like her, Jordan didn't care for her but was always nice to her, and all the boys admired her. Well, I suppose that Gabe didn't."

"You mean because he had a firm relationship with Jordan?" Lilly asked. "That's not a reason."

"Jordan was practically mad about Gabe," Jonah said and giggled. "My goodness, that girl was so madly in love... She started very early with those things, but Gabe was the only man for her. Since she was ten, Jordan has been determined to marry Gabe one day, and now look how far she got." He smiled proudly. "My daughter knows what she wants. And she's always had this talent for drawing. When she was eight, she'd do sketches of the birds, and later she'd draw the faces of us all, including Homer, our scarecrow. When she was about twelve, I noticed that this thing she had for Gabe was really there to stay. She painted only him. I'm not quite sure, but I think she kept those sketches and drafts in a box in her bedroom." Jonah winked. "True love is something, isn't it, Detective?"

Lilly smiled. "I'll tell you when I've found mine," she said.

"Jordan and Gabe got married in 1968," said Diane. "One year after... well, after everything had been upside down. Jamie didn't even call."

"We don't have to talk about him if it hurts you," Lilly said.

"It's alright," said Diane. "He's been gone for so long, I can hardly remember his face. He was such a good son! A little rebel sometimes, but never did he let the family down. He loved his little brother and would have done anything for him. Jamie always protected Gabe, even when they were teenagers. When they had both done something wrong or caused some trouble, it was always Jamie who took the blame. Whenever Gabriel had a problem, he'd go to Jamie first, and only if Jamie couldn't find a solution did they both come to Rick or me. Sometimes we felt virtually superfluous."

"Don't you worry, Diane, Graham was the same way," Sarah said. "I guess all the children came to Jamie when they had a question or a problem. He was the oldest, and they were all looking up to him. He was a brother to them all."

"Strange how much he changed then," Danny remarked.

"He rejected them all," Sarah agreed. "That was so unlike Jamie."

"Sunny was the only one whom he treated with the same friendliness as ever."

"Which was of course fatal, because it only increased her crush on him."

"Oh dear, the poor girl was so sad when he left."

"I would have thought that maybe he'd stay in touch with her. She was always the little sister he never had..."

"Well, she survived it."

"But only barely. Imagine, Jonah, it would have been the other way round, and Gabe would have left Jordan behind. Just imagine how Jordan would have reacted..."

"I'd rather not!"

Lilly and Chris exchanged a glance. The group had started talking all at once; everyone wanted to tell his or her memories to the others.

"I don't think we can learn anything more from them," Lilly said silently.

"I think we've learned a whole lot of interesting things," Chris replied. "Now at last we have something we can work with."

"You mean the information about Diane's sleeping habits?" Lilly shook her head. "I can't see what use this will have, but I know you well enough to know that you have one of your little ideas."

"Betcha." Chris stood up. "Let's go. Maybe we should pay another visit to Sunday McLaren."

"You think..."

"I think," Chris interrupted, "that she's got something she still hasn't told us, and I wanna know what it is. Although I have an idea of that as well," he added.

"I'm very keen to see what you mean." Lilly stood up as well, and the detectives said goodbye to Diane and the others.

They went down the stairs and left the house. Jordan was nowhere to be seen, so they headed directly for the McLaren's house.

Before they reached it, Chris took Lilly's arm and slowed her down. "Listen, I know that you like her, but we really need to extract the last information from her," he said hastily. "So please just let me begin, OK? And don't be surprised; I'll be a little rude."

"Do you really have to?" Lilly did not like the thought.

"Yes," said Chris with a determination that made it clear that he really meant it. "Otherwise she'll never talk."

Lilly sighed. "Alright," she said.

"Thank you." Chris looked at her one moment longer. "Sorry," he said. "I've got to do this."

Lilly nodded. Then she and Chris went the rest of the way up to the house. Sunday opened almost immediately after Lilly had rung the bell.

"Still here?" she asked.

Lilly took a breath and wanted to answer, but Chris beat her to it.

"Sunday, don't you think it's time you told us the whole truth?" he said without introduction. "We just talked to Diane Jarvis and the others, and we learned some very interesting things. It made us reconsider what you said about Jamie and Natalya, and the more we think about it, the stranger it becomes that you are the only one who denies strictly that anything ever happened between the two of them."

Sunday recoiled at Chris's aggravated tone. "Detective, what does this..."

"At first we thought that you simply were not interested in gossiping, but we just learned that you actually had quite a crush on Jamie Jarvis, isn't that correct?"

Sunday stared at Chris. "What the..."

"Isn't it correct," Chris continued, "that you actually knew very well what was going on, but that you decided to deny it? You were thirteen years old, right? At thirteen, children are sometimes still capable of make-believe. Was that what you did, Sunday? You knew something and then decided not to believe it? Come on, tell us. You're probably the only one who knows for sure!"

"I don't know anything! Jamie wasn't..."

"You _do _know something!" Chris fired back. "You _do _know what was really going on. Why do you remain silent about it?"

Lilly watched her partner with growing bewilderment. Never before had she seen Chris so aggressive, especially not with a woman. Normally, he was a true gentleman, and she, Lilly, was the pushy one.

"Tell us," Chris implored. "What is it you know?"

"I saw them, alright!" Sunday suddenly shouted into his face. She was panting, and her face was flushed.

Lilly was surprised. How had Chris known?

"I saw them," Sunday repeated. "Can you imagine what it means for a thirteen-year-old girl to see her crush making out with another woman? Little wonder I wanted to forget it."

"You've actually seen them?" Lilly repeated in disbelief. "Where? Why? How?"

Sunday laughed wryly. I did not sound cheerful. "In the barn," she said. "I was supposed to catch the cat, and I was looking for him in the barn. And then I heard voices. I first recognized Natalya's voice, and then a man said something, and I knew it was Jamie. After all, it's not that I hadn't heard the rumor before. I didn't want to look at them, but in the end I did. I peered around the corner, and there they were. Jamie had turned his back on me and was busy kissing Natalya. She was leaning against the wall and was just unbuttoning Jamie's shirt. I don't know how I plucked up the strength not to scream or shout. I just retreated, as if in trance, and left the barn. And when I was through the door, I was already telling myself that nothing happened. I told myself again and again that I'd just been daydreaming - or rather having nightmares - and after a while it worked. And whenever I heard someone gossip about Jamie and Natalya, I'd deny it. Through my denying it, it was as if it had really never happened, and Jamie was still there for me." Sunday sighed. "But as you can see, he wasn't," she said. "In the end, he was also just a man."

Chris looked at Lilly. Lilly knew this glance; it meant, "You can go on, partner; I've done my part."

"But why didn't you talk to someone else about it?" she asked sympathetically. "Why didn't you talk to Jamie? Why did you keep it to yourself for all those years?"

"Because it was no one else's fucking business!" Sunday snapped. "I had been wrong about Jamie, and I just wanted to forget."

"I can understand that," said Lilly. "And now I also understand why you didn't like Natalya."

"She destroyed all my innocent childhood dreams about Jamie," Sunday said bitterly. "I still hate her for that. I know I shouldn't, and I certainly didn't wish for her to die, but I can't say that I'm sad about what happened to her." She laughed curtly. "I know I'm making a suspect out of myself, but I don't wanna lie to you, Detective. Natalya Atrochenko was a bitch, and no tragedy can alter my opinion of her. She thought she could do anything with her good looks - which she was quickly losing, by the way. She was putting on weight; she would probably have been fat, if not even obese, in a few years' time." Sunday trailed off and gave an uncertain laugh. "I sound like a stubborn child, I suppose," she said. "Or like a teenage high school beauty who wants to be May Queen and tried to discredit the competition. But that's they way I feel. I can't help it."

Lilly nodded slowly. "I can understand you to a certain degree," she said. "I know how much it hurts when a girl is disappointed by a man for the first time. It's hell. But still you shouldn't have hidden this detail from us. It's something we can work with. Up to now, we only knew that rumor had it that Jamie and Natalya had this affair. Now we know for sure."

"I wish you wouldn't." Sunday looked at Lilly and then at Chris. "Is that all, Detectives?"

Lilly nodded. "Yes, Sunday," she said. "I'm sorry that we had to stir all this up again. But we want to solve this case, and we can't do it without your cooperation."

"It's alright, Detective Rush." Sunday smiled, to Lilly's surprise. "In a way it's good that I finally told someone. It feels as if a heavy load is lifted from me."

"I'm glad to hear that," said Lilly truthfully. "I hope you'll be fine, Sunday. Really." She stretched out a hand, and after a moment of hesitation, Sunday took it.

"Thank you, Detective," Sunday said. Then she turned around and went back into the house, leaving Lilly and Chris standing on the threshold. The door closed, and Lilly looked at her partner.

"Is this your new method?" she asked. "I've never seen you like this."

"It didn't feel good," Chris said thoughtfully. "I don't enjoy being rude. This is one thing about my job that I hate: that sometimes I have to behave in a way I don't want to."

"You're not the only one," said Lilly.

Chris looked at his watch. "Let's go back," he said. "We did enough for today. Now we just have to put the pieces together."

"That's gonna take up some time, anyway," said Lilly. She turned around and headed for the car, but just when she was about to open the door, Gabriel Jarvis came out of his own house. He stretched and then lit a cigarette.

"He's having a break," Chris commented.

Gabriel spotted them and came walking over to them. "Hello, Detectives," he said. "I heard you were at my house this morning. I'm sorry I wasn't there to say hello; you must think I'm quite impolite. But I was working on my new book, and when I'm writing, I forget everything else around me."

"We thought so," said Lilly. "Nevermind, Mr. Jarvis."

"That's Gabriel," Gabriel corrected. "I hate formalities."

"Is that something you have in common with your next of kin?" Lilly asked innocently.

Gabriel stared at her. "What do you mean, Detective?" he asked, confused. "You can't be talking about my mother; she's anything but informal."

"She's not the only relative of yours," Lilly hinted.

Gabriel's expression suddenly hardened. "I see, you've heard Jamie's story," he said. "That's true, Jamie was always the informal one."

"In contrast to you."

"Might very well be," said Gabriel stiffly. "Excuse me, Detectives, but I'm really not willing to talk about my brother." He finished his cigarette and threw the stub on the ground, then he stepped on it to extinguish the glowing ashes. "I've got to get back to work," he said. "I can only afford a five-minute break. The book is proceeding quite well, and I don't want to risk it."

He turned to go.

"What is it about?" Lilly asked.

Gabriel stopped. "It's a psychological thriller," he said. "It deals with lost childhood, buried sins and subconscious memories. Someone cannot let sleeping dogs lie, and the results are fatal."

Gabriel turned on his heel and went back to his house, leaving Lilly gaping after him. "Chris, did you hear that?" she said. "Did it sound like a threat to you as well?"

"Maybe," said Chris. "Or he was just fed up and wanted to let that show."

"Either way, he hates to talk about Jamie." Lilly sighed and turned once again to the car. "What do you think does this mean?"

"You're quicker at making up psychological theories," Chris teased.

Lilly nudged him. "Don't be so naughty."

"I'm not being naughty," Chris protested. "I'm saying the truth and nothing but the truth."

"I'm driving," said Lilly, cutting off her partner's kidding. "Keys."

Chris tossed the keys in her direction, and Lilly had to jump for them in order to catch them. Ignoring Chris's laughter, she got in the car and started the engine. Chris hurried to get in on the passenger's side, and Lilly revved the engine and sped away.

**XXX**

When the time was closing in on seven p.m., Lilly and Chris were still in the office, talking to Stillman and Nick Vera about the case, or rather: they were reporting to Stillman, and Nick was constantly moving closer to them, quite obviously eavesdropping, so that Stillman finally lost his nerve and waved to Nick.

"Detective, come and join us," he said with a touch of amusement in his voice. "I can't bear seeing you crane your neck like this. I suppose you'll learn all the facts, anyway, so you may just as well help discuss the case. Maybe you'll spot something that these two here overlooked."

Nick grinned confidently, not at all embarrassed that he had been caught red-handed. He got himself a chair and sat down beside Chris.

"Very well then, my esteemed colleagues, what have we here?" he said cheerfully and rolled up his sleeves. Lilly grinned quietly.

Chris informed Nick about the latest developments, and the four of them spent the next thirty minutes discussing theories and assumptions. But no matter how they looked at it, they kept coming to the same conclusion: all the evidence was pointing at Jamie, but neither Lilly nor Chris believed that the solution was that simple.

After a while, Lilly remembered something. "Chris," she said, "would you now finally be so kind as to tell me why you asked Diane about her sleeping habits?"

"Let's just say I've got an idea in my head," said Chris, "but I still have to work it out. I'll tell you tomorrow."

Lilly sighed impatiently. "Sometimes you're worse than Hercule Poirot," she complained.

"Trust my little gray cells, _Mademoiselle Rush_,"Chris said with an enigmatic smile and stroked a nonexistent moustache.

"I was wrong," Lilly stated wryly. "You're _twice _as bad as Poirot."

"And twice as unnerving," Chris agreed.

"Oh, cut it, you two," said Nick bracingly. "We've got a case to solve."

"_We_?" said Stillman ironically. "I thought you were only a sort of interdepartmental consultant here. If I remember it correctly, you have another case."

"Sure, boss. I was just playing the mediator here to reconcile the partners."

Stillman sighed. "I see, Detectives, you're all tired," he stated wryly. "Maybe we should adjourn the discussion until tomorrow."

"A good idea, boss." Nick pushed back his chair and rose. "I have a date, anyway."

"With Daisy at the drive-in?" Lilly asked jokingly.

Nick straightened. "No," he said with as much dignity as he could muster. "Not with Daisy at the drive-in." He turned to go, and when he had reached the door he turned around once more. "With Kim at the Chinese takeaway just 'cross the street."

And with this, Nick went out of the room.

XXX 

"Good night, Lilly."

"Good night, Chris." Lilly waved at her partner and then unlocked the doors of her car. She slid onto the driver's seat and turned on the radio before she fastened her seat belt and started the engine. Freddie Mercury informed her that he had got to break free, and Lilly accelerated and drove home.

She had barely entered her apartment when the phone started to ring. Lilly put her purse and keys on the small table beside the door and rushed over to get to the phone before the machine answered. She was just in time, took the receiver and pushed a button.

"Hello?"

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "Why can't you Americans never answer your phone with your name?" a man's voice complained in a grumpy tone. "It's always 'Hello'."

"I'm sorry, Dorian." Lilly grinned. "This is Detective Lilly Rush speaking."

"That's better." Dorian Wynter cleared his throat.

"What is it, Dorian?" Lilly wanted to know. She was alerted. If the pathologist called her late in the evening, it could only mean that he had found something.

"It's about that skeleton of yours," Dorian said promptly. "I did a second examination, paying particular interest to the structure of the bones and the proportions. And I found something that may be of interest. I can't say for sure, but the position of the pelvis indicates that she might have been pregnant when she died."

"Pregnant?" Lilly repeated.

"Yes." Dorian was impatient. "Expecting a child."

"I heard you." Lilly shook her head to get her mind clear. "Well, that's indeed something interesting. Can you say..."

"No," Dorian interrupted her. "I can only say that it was probably during the first half of the pregnancy that she died. No later than maybe the fifth month."

"Thank you very much for the information, Dorian." Lilly was excited. "I'll tell my partner immediately."

"And don't forget you promised to keep me up to date about the investigation," Dorian reminded her. "Even old, grumpy medical examiners want to know what happened."

"I'll keep you posted," Lilly promised. "Thanks for calling. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Lilly hung up the phone only to lift the receiver once again. Hastily, she dialed Chris's number, and when her partner answered, she told him the news.


	9. The Arrest and the Accident

Chapter Eight – The Arrest and the Accident

"Pregnant," said Stillman thoughtfully. "Well, that gives us at least a motive."

Lilly did not reply. She understood Stillman's train of thought, but she still had her doubts.

"What kind of motive do you mean, boss?" she asked after a short pause.

Stillman looked at her. "I can see that you don't agree with me, Rush," he said. "You and your partner have a different suspicion, isn't that correct?"

"I only know that everyone told us we were barking up the wrong tree as soon as we mentioned James Jarvis," Lilly responded. "And considering everything we've learned about him, I can't say that this new information supports in any way the theory that he murdered her."

"Although he has a motive now?"

"This motive is no motive for him," Lilly contradicted. "James Jarvis was the daredevil; he wouldn't have minded to have a child. And it just doesn't match his profile to chicken out."

"And his family? He could have killed her to avoid a scandal, even though he himself had no problem with it."

"You say it, he had no problem with it. And besides, let's assume he killed her and thus got rid of this problem - why did he leave, then? He had no reason."

"Guilty conscience?" Nick offered.

"Again, that doesn't match his profile. And besides, I don't think that this would have been such a big scandal. Think, Nick. The whole community already knew about his affair with Natalya; a child wouldn't have come much as a surprise. And Jamie _knew _that everyone knew. Why should he suddenly become scrupulous? A child would have been just the next stage. His family would have managed. And why should he be afraid of a scandal? Don't forget that hardly anyone met the _Outer Four. _The people of Deansville hardly ever thought of them. You only gossip about those you are interested in, so who would even have heard of this so-called scandal? Don't you see that it just doesn't make any sense?"

"There must be some other explanation," said Chris. He looked at Lilly, and she returned the glance. Chris nodded slightly, and Lilly cleared her throat.

"Here's our theory," she said. "First let's just look at the plain facts. We have a housemaid who was pregnant when she died. We have Sunday McLaren's statement that she saw Natalya and Jamie in the barn in a pretty obvious situation. We know that someone killed Natalya, buried her and then hid the Jarvis's car in order to make it look as if Natalya had stolen it and run off. The same person also stole some money out of Diane Jarvis's emergency box about which, as he or she knew, Natalya was informed, because she did some of the shopping. A few days later, the car was probably taken to Philly, where the street gangs took care of it. Furthermore, we know that Jamie changed after this incident, that he withdrew from the others and especially Gabriel, his little brother - whom, as everyone confirmed, he loved dearly.

"True, the first conclusion we can draw is the theory that Jamie was the killer. But Chris and I took something else into consideration. Let me give you some additional information: Jamie and Gabriel were similar in many ways. People sometimes even mistook them for twins. And I'd like you to listen to Sunday's statement once again."

Lilly produced a small tape recorder and put it on the table. "I taped everyone's statements," she explained. "I didn't tell them, but I never planned to use it in court. It was just so that I could go through the statements again and again. As you'll see now, it was very useful." She pressed PLAY, and Sunday McLaren's voice resounded from the device: "I first recognized Natalya's voice, and then a man said something, and I knew it was Jamie. After all, it's not that I hadn't heard the rumor before. I didn't want to look at them, but in the end I did. I peered around the corner, and there they were. Jamie had turned his back on me and was busy kissing Natalya."

Lilly stopped the tape and looked at Nick and Stillman. "Have you heard that?" she asked. "Sunday didn't actually see Jamie's face; she only saw the back of a man who looked like Jamie, and she heard his voice. Now we know from Alex Jarvis's statement that Jamie and Gabriel sound so similar that Jamie even managed to pretend he was Gabriel, although the person he called knew the real Gabriel. Furthermore, we know that Sunday had a huge crush on Jamie, and that she was secretly fearing she would see Jamie, even before she actually had a look at the two persons. All of these facts together lead to another conclusion: what if it was actually Gabriel Jarvis, and not Jamie, who had the affair with Natalya?"

Lilly paused to give Nick and Stillman some time to digest the information. Stillman was the first to speak.

"But that's absurd," he said. "You said it often enough: everyone knew about Jamie and Natalya."

"Everyone _thought _they knew," Lilly corrected. "The only one who ever saw the couple was Sunday, and she didn't see his face. It is very well possible that she was mixing up the brothers, especially in her situation."

"But why didn't Jamie deny the rumor?" Nick asked. "He must have known how his neighbors were gossiping about him."

"Yes, exactly," Lilly said. "That's what Jamie was aiming at. You must consider Jamie's character. He always protected his little brother. Diane told us that Jamie always took the blame, even if Gabriel had done something wrong. This was nothing else. Gabriel was the 'good son'; he was practically engaged to Jordan Donahue. The hopes of two families would have been shattered if the affair had been discovered. But Jamie could afford it. He didn't have a girlfriend, and he was more the kind of guy who would start an affair with a Russian housemaid. And, as you see, the brothers' strategy worked. Everyone thought it was Jamie, and Jamie didn't do anything to stop the rumor. He even supported it secretly. This way, no one paid attention to Gabriel.

"Now I suppose that Gabriel never meant to marry Natalya. He just wanted to have some fun and then return to Jordan, whom he actually loved. But his plans were spoiled when Natalya told him she was pregnant. Gabriel's future was suddenly endangered. So he killed her, and no one suspected anything.

"No one, apart from Jamie. Diane told us that Gabriel always first went to Jamie when he had a problem. I suppose he told his brother that Natalya was pregnant, and when she suddenly disappeared, Jamie knew that his little brother had something to do with it. And therefore he withdrew from him. He tried to go on living as if nothing had happened, but it didn't work out. Jamie couldn't bear to see his brother every day, and knowing that he had done something to Natalya. And therefore he decided to leave, to cut all connections, and to begin a new life somwhere else."

"And Gabriel married his Jordan and everything ended well," said Chris. "And if Skyline, Ltd. hadn't decided to build on the meadow, his crime would never have been discovered."

"But how do you know that it wasn't Jamie who killed Natalya for his brother?" Nick asked. "If he did everything else for him, why not this?"

"Because Jamie would certainly have found another solution," said Lilly. "Graham said Jamie would never plan and encompass the death of another person, and I tend to believe him. Jamie was a little wild, and as we have seen, a little unconventional, but at the same time he was good-natured and intelligent. He would certainly have found a better solution than brutal murder."

"And besides, it's very well possible that he has an alibi," said Chris casually.

"What?" Nick and Stillman said simultaneously.

""Yes," Lilly said with a smile. "Chris told me yesterday on the phone. Now I finally know why he asked Diane about her sleeping habits."

"Diane told us that she went to bed at ten that evening," Chris began, "and that this was half an hour earlier than her usual bed-time, which was ten-thirty. She also said that she heard Jamie and Dylan come back when she was already falling asleep. That means the boys must have returned at about ten-fifteen, since Diane doesn't need much time to fall asleep. And then, when she was aleady half asleep, she heard a car leave, and she immediately thought it was Jamie. On the next day she learned that Natalya had run away with their car, and then she thought of course that she had heard the other car, not the one Jamie returned with.

"But does that make any sense? Natalya knew about Diane's sleeping habits; surely she wouldn't have snuck out of the house when she wasn't sure if Diane was already asleep. She would have waited until it was safe that no one woke up – two or three in the morning, probably, but not a quarter past ten. And the same goes for Gabriel, of course. No matter how I looked at it, it was illogical. The car that Diane heard can't have been the Jarvis's car.

"But which other car was there? Dylan's, of course, the one the boys had just arrived with. And suddely Diane's statement made sense. She heard a car arrive, heard the boys outside, and then, some time later, she heard the _same _car leave once again. Why did she immediately think it was Jamie and not Dylan, who was the owner of the car? There's just one answer: she heard Jamie arrive, but she never heard him enter the house. And although she was too tired to really realize this, the thought that went through her head was, 'Where does Jamie go now?' But then she fell asleep, and on the next day she heard Natalya's story, and she thought she had been mistaken last night. Jamie was here and Natalya was gone, so she must have been mixing up things in her drowsiness.

"But when we have a closer look, we soon notice that Diane's version has logical gaps, and that her first impression was correct: Jamie _did _leave once again. And what we've got to find out now is: where did he go?"

Chris stopped and looked at his colleagues. "This is an account of the events as Lilly and I think it really happened," he said.

"Well," said Stillman after a short pause, "this sounds indeed logical. I must admit, I'm impressed. After all, there was no physical evidence left anywhere. You had to rely completely on the statements of the suspects."

"Well, sir, this is what working on the cold cases means," Lilly said as modestly as she could, although she could not quite hide her pride. "And, of course, this is the result of ideal teamwork." She smiled at Chris. "I can't say it often enough: Chris Lassing is the best partner I ever had."

Chris blushed and murmured something, and Stillman's smile faded.

"Well, Detective, I'm glad to hear that," he said. "Then why don't you and your fantastic partner go and arrest the perp? What are you waiting for?"

"The warrant of arrest," said Lilly.

**XXX**

"What do you mean?" Jordan looked from Lilly to Chris. She seemed calm, but her gaze was unsteady, flickering between the two detectives.

"I'm sorry, Jordan," said Lilly. "We have enough circumstancial evidence to arrest your husband. "

"There must be a mistake," Jordan protested. "That can't be. Gabe would never… never would Gabe…"

"Please, Mrs. Jarvis, let us pass," Chris cut in. "Don't obstruct the police, or this is going to be much nastier than it already is."

Jordan clearly did not know what to do. Eventually, she gave in and stepped aside. The two uniformed police officers who had come with Lilly and Chris passed her antered the house. Chris followed while Lilly remained with Jordan.

"Look, Jordan, we've got to do this," she said. "Your husband will be taken to the police station, and we will interrogate him. You must understand that there are some leads that speak against Gabriel. But I assure you that we'll handle everything with great care. If he's innocent, then we'll know, and he'll return to you as soon as possible. But if he's not…" Lilly trailed off and fell silent. She could hear Chris reading Gabriel his rights, and a moment later, the two officers emerged with Gabriel between them. He was cuffed, but he was walking with his head held high.

"Gabe!" Jordan cried. The look in her eyes was sheer panic, which startled Lilly. Jordan had always seemed to be in control of her feelings. But now, with her husband being arrested before her eyes, her composure was starting to collapse.

Gabriel stopped in front of his wife and looked at her. "I'm sorry, Jordan," he said. "But don't you worry. Everything's gonna be alright. I didn't do anything, and the police is going to find that out. This is just a misunderstanding." He turned and glanced at Lilly. "It _is _a misunderstanding, Detective Rush," he said. "You're arresting the wrong person." He turned back to Jordan. "I love you," he said, bent to her and kissed her.

Jordan stared after him as the two officers led Gabriel to the squad car parked on the road. Gabriel said something to the officers, and one of them nodded. The door was opened, and Gabriel got in the car. Just before the door was closed, he remembered something, stuck his head out and called to Jordan, "Could you please call Leland and tell him what happened?"

Jordan nodded.

Gabriel leaned back in the seat, and one of the officers closed the door. Then he got in and they drove away.

Jordan sunk back against the doorpost. "This is not happening," she murmured. "This can't be happening."

Lilly swallowed. She did not know what to say. "Would you like to sit down?" she asked, a little awkwardly.

Jordan nodded and turned away from the door. She went into the living room, and Lilly followed.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked. "Would you like a coffee o a glass of water?"

"No," Jordan replied. Her voice was shaking, but her gaze was already becoming steady. "No, Detective. I don't want a glass of water. What I want is you to tell me how on earth you got this stupid idea of my husband being a murderer."

Lilly hesitated. "The investigation is officially not over," she reminded Jordan. "I'm not allowed to tell you everything."

"Then tell me something you're allowed to share." Jordan looked at Lilly. "What made you arrest Gabe?"

"Who's Leland?" Lilly asked back. "Your husband asked you to call a Leland."

Jordan winced. "Oh, yes, maybe I should do that first." She reached for the telephone. "He's a friend of Graham's," she explained while she was dialing. "He's a lawyer."

"I thought so." Lilly turned around and went once more to the two paintings hanging on the wall. She heard Jordan talk on the phone, but she did not pay attention to her words. She was again fascinated by the pictures.

J – D – G – J. Jordan Donahue and Gabriel Jarvis. And on the other one: G – J – J – D. Gabriel Jarvis and Jordan Donahue. One picture dark and somber, the other light and serene. One stormy, the other calm. A person in one, broom in the other.

Jordan had hung up the phone and now stepped beside Lilly. "You really like them, Detective, do you?" she asked.

Lilly nodded. "They're fascinating," she said. "I'm not saying this because I want to flatter you."

"I'm sure you don't," said Jordan wryly.

"I don't know anything about art," Lilly said. "When did you paint them, did you say?"

"At twenty," Jordan said. "First _The Tempest-Tossed_, and then…"

"Lilly?"

Lilly turned around. Chris was standing in the doorway. "I was looking for you," he said.

"Well, I'm here," said Lilly curtly. She was a little bit annoyed that Chris had interrupted her beginning conversation with Jordan.

"Graham Webster called," Chris said. "He would like to talk to us."

"I thought he retreated from the case."

"Maybe he just wants to get some things straight." Chris held the door open for his partner. "Come on, Lilly. It won't take long." He looked at Jordan. "Mrs. Jarvis, we'll come back when we've talked to the sheriff," he said. "Maybe you could pack some things for your husband? Clothes, a toothbrush, and so on? He's going to spend the night, well…"

"In jail," said Jordan bitterly. "You don't have to be so shy, Detective Lassing."

"In custody," Chris corrected. "I understand you have already informed his lawyer?"

"Yes."

"Very well then, we'll come back as soon as we can." Chris turned to go, and Lilly followed.

XXX 

It turned out that Graham Webster had heard of Gabriel's arrest and wanted to know the exact circumstances. Lilly told him as much as she could without breaking the rules, and Graham nodded musingly.

"I understand," he said. "But you don't think you can base a trial on this, do you? This will never be enough to indict him. You'll have to release him from custody in forty-eight hours at the latest."

"Unless he confesses," Lilly reminded him.

Graham shook his head. "Gabe won't confess," he said. "And if you want to hear my humble opinion… I don't think he did it. I know, your theory sounds good, and I'm sure that it's true to a certain extent, but I can't believe that Gabe is so cold-blooded."

"But you don't have a better explanation, do you, Sheriff?" Lilly asked.

Graham shook his head. "No," he said. "And now I'll probably leave the office to Matt and Lucy and go home. I've got the feeling that my friends and family need me."

"Shall we give you a ride?" Lilly offered, but Graham shook his head.

"I've got my own car," he said.

So Graham took his car, and Lilly and Chris followed him back to the community. As soon as Graham had parked his car, the others came out of their houses and gathered around him. Lilly and Chris joined them, and Dylan, Sunday and the others now fired questions at them. Lilly apologized again and again for not being allowed to tell them anything, but she agreed to come over to the McLaren's house to give at least a summary of their conclusions. When they were heading for the house, Jordan stepped beside Lilly.

"I packed a few things for Gabe," she said. "Shall I give it to you?"

"Put them on the back seat," said Chris and pointed at the car. "The door's open."

Jordan nodded and went back to the car. One minute later, she joined the others in Sunday's kitchen.

Lilly and Chris answered as many questions as possible, which turned out to be quite tricky, for almost each question contained something they were not allowed to answer. Therefore they had to think thoroughly about each single answer, and when Chris finally nudged Lilly, she jumped.

"What's wrong?"

"It's past five, Lilly," Chris said. "We should go."

"Yes," said Lilly absent-mindedly.

"We'll keep you up to date about the developments," Chris said to Graham.

"Forty-eight hours," said Graham.

"We'll see." Chris bent to Lilly and touched her arm. "Come one," he said. "Let's go home."

Lilly nodded, and they left the house. When they had almost reached their car, Dylan came running out of the house.

"Your keys, Detectives!"

"Oh, thank you." Chris caught the keys that Dylan tossed towards him and opened the door. "I'm driving," he said.

When they were on their way to the highway, Lilly spoke for the first time.

"Believe it or not, Chris, I still have the feeling that we missed something," she said. "Although everything seems to be clear, all questions answered, all logical gaps closed… Something's wrong."

"Oh no, Lilly," Chris contradicted. "We solved this case, that's as good as certain. If Gabriel confesses…"

"Graham says he won't confess, and I tend to believe him." Lilly stared through the windshield. "Maybe he can't confess, because he didn't do anything…"

"Don't start all over again, Lilly," said Chris. "Just wait until we get back, maybe he _has _already confessed."

"Yeah, maybe." Lilly was not convinced, but she leaned back in the saet and remained silent for a while.

They reached the long, curved highway ramp, and Chris took his foot off the accelerator and onto the brake pedal. At first, Lilly did not notice anything, but then Chris muttered something under his breath and moved hastily in the driver's seat.

"What's wrong?" Lilly asked, alerted. "Hey, why don't you slow the car down?"

"Because the brakes don't work," Chris said through clenched teeth.

Lilly thought she had misheard him. "What?"

"Those fucking brakes don't work!" Chris shouted. "He stamped his foot onto the pedal, and now Lilly heard the click as it went down on the floor without any resistance. The car went on at an average speed of about forty miles per hour, and the highway was coming closer and closer.

As if someone had pressed a button, Lilly felt a wave of panic. She tried to swallow it down and think quickly instead. Surely she had learned, at some point during her training, how to deal with a car with defective brakes…

"What shall we do?" she asked, hating the shrill tone of panic in her voice.

"Adjust your seat belt and try to get a grip on something steady," Chris said, his eyes fixed on the road. His left hand was clasping the steering wheel with all his might; hit knuckles were white. With the right hand he reached for the handbrake, pulling it and releasing it once more. The car slowed down, but only a little.

"We've got to get off the road," Lilly said. "If we get on the highway, we're lost."

Chris did not answer. He concentrated on the road. Lilly noticed that he had activated the hazard warning lights.

She looked out of the window and, despite her fear, felt a little relieved: twenty yards ahead, a large field was at the side of the road, separated only by a fence. She began to guess what Chris planned.

They reached the field, and Chris turned the steering wheel. The car swerved; Chris lost control, and the front of the car bumped against the fence. Lilly tried to sink back into her seat and clasped the sides of the back. Metal shrieked. Chris pulled the handbrake again and somehow managed to regain control over the car. He tried the same maneuver for the second time. This time it worked. The car hit the fence with all its might, and the fence could not withstand. The car broke through and rolled into the field. The deep furrows were like a natural brake, and Chris pulled the handbrake again. The car was finally slowing down. Chris steered the car into a wide curve, and they finally came to a halt in the middle of a huge cloud of dust. The engine stalled.

For a moment, Lilly remained in her seat as if in trance. The whole thing had lasted only two minutes, but it had felt like an eternity. Finally she could muster the strength to loosen her seat belt and open the door. Her knees were shaking. Chris got out of the car as well, and for a moment they just looked at each other. Then Lilly went to her partner and, without speaking, took him in her arms. Chris hugged her back, and for a little while they just stood there. Then Chris spoke.

"Lilly, I think we have a problem here."


	10. More Mysteries

Chapter Nine – More Mysteries

"No, sir, Detective Lassing is pretty sure that someone manipulated the brakes." Lilly turned away from the noise of the highway in order to hear Stillman's voice crackling through the phone line. He asked just one question.

"Who could have done it?"

"Well, that's the problem," Lilly said. "It can't have been Gabriel Jarvis. We used the car after he was arrested, and it was working fine. The sabotage didn't take place until we returned from our visit at the sheriff's office. That was about four p.m. At that time, Gabriel Jarvis had been in custody for more than an hour."

"That's what I call an alibi," said Stillman wryly. "Any other theories, Rush?"

"No, sir. It could have been anybody. We were all in the community, and the car was parked on the road. It wasn't even locked."

"You don't need to get into a car to manipulate the brakes," Stillman informed her. "So this fact is irrelevant, and I'll forget it as soon as I've hung up the phone. I guess I don't have to remind you that this broke quite a few rules, Rush."

"I'm sorry, sir." Lilly could not think of anything else to say.

"Nevermind. What are you going to do now?"

"We'll wait for the highway patrol to arrive," Lilly said. "And then I'll call you again, so you can an officer to pick us up. But the car is, well, fit for the scrap heap. We were really, really lucky; this could have ended much worse. Thank goodness that Chris is such a good driver."

"I'm waiting for your call," said Stillman. "I'll send an officer as soon as you've finished there."

"Thanks, sir." Lilly hung up and returned to Chris, who was taling to the highway patrol officer, who had meanwhile arrived.

"… been manipulated," the officer was saying. "I won't bother you with the technical detail, but there has definitely been an attack on your lives."

"An attack on our lives?" Lilly stepped beside her partner and looked at the officer. "Are you kidding?"

"No, he's not," said Chris. "Someone wanted us to have an accident. And they did quite a good job."

"Oh Jesus." Lilly went pale and leaned against Chris, who put an arm lightly around her shoulders. "And what shall we do now?"

"Who could have done it?" Chris asked back. "Not Gabriel, that's for sure."

"Does it necessarily have to have been the killer?" Lilly asked. "Maybe it was Jordan, just to take revenge because we arrested her husband."

Chris looked at her dubiously. "You don't really believe that, do you, Lilly?"

"No," Lilly admitted. "It wouldn't make any sense, and besides it wouldn't do anything good for Jordan or Gabriel."

"Then we must have made a mistake somewhere, and the killer is still on the loose." Chris bit his lower lip. "Oh God, how I wish this whole case was already solved."

"I'll call Stillman and tell him we're finished here," Lilly said. "I suppose you're taking care of that?" she asked the officer.

"Sure," the officer confirmed. "Maybe the mechanics will find some leads."

"Maybe." Lilly was not convinced.

She called Stillman once again, who promised to send Nick Vera to pick them up.

Nick arrived half an hour later, and the three of them went back to the police station.

"We have a guest, by the way," Nick informed them as they were climbing the stairs to the office.

"A guest?" Lilly was confused. "What do you mean?"

"A guest," Nick repeated. "You'll meet him in a minute."

When the emerged from the staircase, Lilly peered into the room. "Where is he?" she asked.

"Straight ahead, talking to Will." Nick pointed at their colleague Will Jeffried. The elderly, black detective was leaning against his desk, talking to a man who was sitting with his back turned on Lilly and Chris.

Lilly narrowed her eyes. "Isn't that Gabriel?" she said, confused. "I thought he was still in custody."

Nick smiled enigmatically. "Are you sure that this is Gabriel?" he asked. "Look closer."

Lilly was confused for a moment, but then something began to dawn on her. "You mean this is…" She trailed off and did as instructed: she looked closer. Right at this moment, the man turned his head, so that Lilly could see him from sideways on.

He looked indeed very much like Gabriel. He had the same, handsome face and the same brown, graying hair. His brow was deeply lined, more than Gabriel's, and his eyes had a different shape. But Lilly could now understand why everyone had mistaken Gabriel and Jamie for twins.

With a few steps, she covered the distance between them and approached Will's desk.

"James Jarvis?"

Jamie turned around. "Yes."

Even his voice sounded like Gabriel's. Lilly had to pull herself together not to simply gape at him. Instead, she stretched out her hand.

"I'm Detective Lilly Rush. I'm running the investigation. Thank you for coming."

Jamie got up and shook her hand. "You arrested my brother," he said. It was not a question.

"I fear that's true," Lilly said. "There has been some evidence pointing to him. But it won't be enough to take him to court, so he will probably be released from custody tomorrow."

"What kind of evidence?" Jamie asked.

"I'm not allowed to tell you, Mr. Jarvis." Lilly got herself a chair and sat down. "Let's just say that we have only some circumstancial evidence and the information we deduced from the others' statements. No real proof."

Jamie nodded. "I see," he said.

"But we would like you to give an account of the events as well," Chris cut in. "We need an official statement from everyone who was present that night."

Jamie's expression hardened. "Is that really necessary?" he asked.

"Yes." Lilly did not falter. "But we would prefer you to do it voluntarily."

"Very well then." Jamie sighed. "I think I'll have to. Now that I've returned, I might as well tell you what I know. But I'd like to wait until tomorrow."

Lilly and Chris exchanged a glance. "Okay," Lilly said eventually. "Can you stop by tomorrow at ten a.m. to deliver an official statement?"

"Will I have to testify in court?" Jamie asked.

"Mr. Jarvis, right now it is very doubtful whether there will be a trial at all," Chris reminded him. "It may be possible, but in that case we would of course inform you in time."

"Alright." Jamie got up and looked around musingly. "It feels strange to be in Philly," he said. "I haven't been here for more than thirty years. I haven't seen my family for more than thirty years. I would like you not to tell any of them that I'm here, Detective."

"Will you tell us why you didn't stay in touch?" Lilly asked.

"Tomorrow." Jamie turned around. "Goodbye, Detectives."

"Goodbye." Lilly stared after Jamie until he had reached the stairs. The she turned back to Chris, Nick and Will. "I didn't expect that," she said.

"Neither did we," said Chris wryly. "Do you think it's gonna change anything?"

"I don't know." Lilly sighed and leaned back against the desk. "I have the feeling that Jamie's story will help us close some logical gaps, but that it won't help us sorting out who manipulated our car."

"Speaking of that," Chris put in, "I'd like to make a suggestion. Who knows if this was the last one?"

"The last what?"

"The last attack. Maybe that someone, whoever it was, found out that it didn't work and tries again."

"And how?"

"Did you give them your card?" Chris asked.

Lilly nodded. "Of course I did."

"Me, too. Then it's easy for them to find out where we live. They could come by at night and set our houses on fire, for instance."

"Don't you think you're getting a little paranoid there, Chris?" Lilly was not convinced. "Maybe this brake thing was just a spontaneous idea."

"But maybe it wasn't," Chris insisted. "Who tells you the whole things wasn't planned?"

"What do you want from me, Chris?" Lilly asked bluntly. "Do you think we're in danger?"

"Yes," said Chris frankly. "I think we are in danger. And since we don't know what the killer wants to do, or which one of us he's gonna target, I think it's not a very good idea if we stayed alone tonight."

"So what?" said Lilly impatiently. "You want to stay overnight at my place or what?"

Chris grinned. "Actually I was going to suggest we both stay here at the office overnight," he said. "I wouldn't dare to cross any borders."

"Borders," Lilly growled. "It's not crossing borders that I'm worried about. By the way, what kind of borders are you talking about?"

"Forget it," Chris said, shrugging the matter of. "I guess I was just teasing you."

"You think I don't want my partner to stay at my place?" Lilly asked. "You think it's a problem for me, regarding my partner also as a friend? Chris Lassing, you should know me better by now."

"I said, forget it," Chris repeated. "And don't you change the topic, Lilly. I really don't think it's a good idea to go home as if nothing had happened."

Lilly sighed. "Well," she said, "if it makes you feel better, then I'll concede."

Chris smiled at her. "Thanks, Lilly," he said. "Really, I know you think I'm exaggerating. But I have a bad feeling about this. And after all, staying at the office isn't so bad, is it?"

Lilly had to admit that it wasn't.

**XXX**

A few hours later, Lilly and Chris were sitting at a table together with Nick, Will Jeffried and Stillman, sharing a few pizzas they had ordered. They were still discussing the case, making up new theories and taking wild guesses who could have manipulated the brakes. But no theory made sense; no train of thought was without any logical gaps. Two hours later they were back to where they had started.

Nick had left the table a few minutes ago and now returned with a six pack of Budweiser. Lilly, who hardly ever drank alcohol, needed a little persuading before she took one of the bottles. But finally she conceded and allowed Chris to open the bottle for her with a lighter.

"Cheers," Nick said and raised his bottle. "Here's to Rush and Lassing, our dear colleagues!"

"Cut it, Vera," said Chris, but he was grinning. Lilly was surprised how easily Chris dealt with the whole situation. He seemed completely unperturbed, although it had originally been him who had had those fears and doubts.

"Whatever," Lilly murmured and raised her own bottle. "Here's to the solution of the case!"

"Here's to James Jarvis and his story," Stillman said, raising his bottle. "The story that will finally dot the i's and cross the t's!"

"Here's to Natalya," said Will Jeffries. "To justice!"

Everyone looked at Chris. He pondered for a moment, then he raised his bottle as well. "Here's to teamwork," he said, and his voice was solemn rather than playful. "To trust, to persistence, and to friendship. In other words: to my partner. To Lilly."

Lilly blushed. She did not quite understand why Chris suddenly got so solemn, and she was half fearing that Nick would comment on Chris's choice of words. But mysteriously enough, Nick kept his big mouth shut and simply raised his bottle to her.

"Can I talk to you?" Chris asked her silently. "Later?"

Lilly looked at him. "Sure," she said. "What is it?"

"Later," Chris repeated. "When they're gone."

Lilly nodded. She had no idea what this was all about, but she couldn't help feeling as if all the others knew something that she didn't.

"Will," Chris said suddenly, "there's one thing I've been meaning to ask you for days. Do you remember Natalya's case? I mean, the Jarvis's laid an information against her back then, didn't they?"

Will smiled. "I expected this question," he said, "and therefore I've been going through the old files lately. I actually found the old documents, and when I read them, it occurred to me that I had indeed heard of the story."

"Tell us," said Chris. "Please."

"It wasn't my case," said Will warningly. "I only know what I learned from my colleagues. I was very young back then, and full of enthusiasm for my own cases. I didn't pay that much attention to the others."

"But still you remember this one."

"Yes," said Will musingly. "I remember it, because the whole department was eager to find Natalya. She was really a beautiful girl, and all the officers wanted to find her and be her knight in armor. They'd make up their own theories of how this girl was kidnapped by brutal Russian gangsters, and how she was kept in a sort of solitary confinement… and then one day, one of those valiant officers would find a lead and discover her. That sort of stuff."

"The gallant knight upon a fine white steed," said Lilly. "Officers don't change, do they? Still this thought is for most people the main reason to join the police."

"You must admit that it's a very pleasant thought," said Nick in such a defensive tone that Lilly couldn't help wondering whether this had also been Nick's own motivation.

"A picture of Natalya used to hang on the wall in the office even a few months after her disappearance," Will continued. "For a while, she became a sort of symbol for the missing persons department. But since the investigation produced zip, the case was eventually marked as unsolved and put away."

Lilly felt tears well behind her eyes. She did not know whether this was due to the alcohol or her headache or to Will's story – probably to all three of them -, but she suddenly felt very gloomy. It was a sad story. The Russian girl, who had never done anything wrong, had ended in a grave only a few yards away from her house, while everyone had thought she was a scheming bitch. And the story of her life had been jotted down in notes in some case file that was now buried somewhere in the basement of the building, doomed to be forgotten in time.

Lilly caught herself humming a song by Aerosmith called "Fallen Angels".

"There's a candle burning in the world tonight… For another child who vanished out of sight… Where do fallen angels go? I just don't know… They keep falling…"

"Lilly?" Chris was beside her and put his hand on her arm. "Are you alright?"

Lilly blinked the tears away. "Sure," she said a little bit too cheerfully. "I was just listening to Will's story. Why don't you go ahead, Will?"

Chris cast her another long glance, but Lilly only smiled. "Been a long day," she said. "I'm tired. Don't look at me like this."

Chris frowned, but he did not speak. Lilly pulled herself together and turned back to Will.

"Did your colleagues talk to everyone in the community?" she asked.

"No," Will answered. "I think they only talked to the Jarvis's. After all, it was them who had laid the information against Natalya, and it was in their house where the theft was committed. And before you ask, I don't think they knew about the rumor," he added when Lilly opened her mouth to speak again. "They would've made a note in the case file if they had known about it."

"So they didn't know anything more than we do now," Lilly concluded.

"In fact, they knew even less," Will corrected. "They didn't even know she was dead."

"Missing person and theft," said Lilly. "Little wonder that I didn't find the file when I was looking for it in the cold case files."

"Sorry I couldn't help you," said Will apologetically. "Sometimes even my memory is not good enough. But I reckon even an elephant couldn't tell you more about the case as it was back then. There was really not much."

"No one's reproaching you," Lilly said with a smile.

Will smiled back. "I'm very glad to hear that," he said. Then he downed the rest of his beer and got up. "It's time for me to go," he said. "My wife's gonna think I was mugged on the way home or something. It's way too late, anyway."

Lilly glanced at her watch and was surprised to see that it was already past eleven. But once she knew the time, she noticed how tired she was. She yawned and stretched.

"Tired, eh?" Nick asked with a wink. "Well, lucky you; tomorrow you can sleep longer than usual. You don't need to waste your time in the traffic."

"But that's the only advantage," Lilly replied. "Still I'd rather get up an hour earlier if only I could sleep in my own bed, not on some couch in my boss's office."

"Don't say anything against my couch," Stillman threatened with a smile. "It's very comfortable."

"That sounds as if you already spent a few nights there," Nick said.

"You shouldn't ask your superior things like that," Stillman replied wryly.

"But basically the idea of getting some sleep doesn't sound all bad," Chris cut in. "Maybe we should stop here and continue tomorrow. If Jamie's story really is the key, we'll have the case solved completely by tomorrow."

Stillman, Nick and Will got up and cleaned the table from the empty pizza boxes and beer bottles. Lilly wanted to help them, but Nick shook his head energetically. "Rush, you stay there," he ordered. "You look as if you're gonna fall asleep right where you're standing."

Lilly smiled faintly. "That's exactly how I feel," she admitted.

Chris joined her. "Go to sleep, Lilly," he said silently. "We can still talk tomorrow."

"Talk?" Lilly was confused for a moment, then she remembered. "Oh, I'm sorry, Chris," she said. "I completely forgot that you wanted to talk to me."

"Nevermind." Chris smiled bracingly. "Just don't forget it."

"I won't." Lilly yawned again.

Ten Minutes later, she was lying on the couch in Stillman's office. Through the glass wall, she saw Chris, who was talking to Nick for a few minutes, then the stocky detective waved and left as well. Lilly watched her partner as he cuddled in the enormous armchair that Will Jeffries had tracked down somewhere in the building.

Lilly closed her eyes, but although she was so tired, it took her a while to fall asleep. She doubted that anyone ventured another attack on their lives, not today and not tomorrow. This whole brake business seemed very much like a spur-of-the-moment decision to Lilly. Someone in the community did not consent to Gabriel Jarvis's arrest. But who…?

Lilly could literally feel herself dozing off, and when she finally fell asleep, she dreamed of dark places and buried skeletons.


	11. Jamie

**Chapter Ten - Jamie**

"Wake up, Lilly."

Lilly yawned, groaned, and finally managed to open one eye. Chris was standing beside the couch, waving a bag of fresh rolls. Now Lilly also noticed the smell of coffee. She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Care for breakfast?" Chris did not wait for an answer. He put the bag on Stillman's desk, left the office and returned with a pot of coffee. Before Lilly had even put her shoes on, Chris had completely prepared the breakfast table.

"That's service," Lilly remarked with a smile.

"You'd better hurry. We should get finished before Vera turns up," Chris warned.

Lilly laughed, but she admitted that Chris was right.

Nick and Will entered the office when Lilly and Chris had just finished their second cup of coffee. The rolls were gone, and Chris had gotten rid of the evidence – crumbs, spilled honey and the bag.

"Slept well?" Nick asked as soon as he opened the door.

"Like a baby," Chris replied. "And you, Lilly?"

"Me, too." Lilly took a sip from her coffee to hide her grin.

"When is Jamie due to arrive?" Nick asked Chris.

"Nine thirty," Chris replied. "I suppose you don't wanna miss his story?"

"Not for anything in the world," Nick enthused.

"I'll call Dorian," said Lilly. "I suppose he wants to be there as well."

"Very well," said Nick and looked longingly at the coffee pot. "You two don't happen to have a cup of coffee to spare for two hard-working colleagues, do you?"

"Let's see what we can do."

**XXX**

"Your full name is James Alexander Jarvis?"

"Yes."

"You are here to deliver an official statement. Please note that this conversation is going to be taped."

"I do not object."

"Okay, then let's begin." Lilly sat down and changed her tone of voice from very official to official. "You know that a skeleton was found in the area where your family is still living. Our investigation has shown that the body is that of a young woman called Natalya Atrochenko, who used to work as a housemaid for your parents. She disappeared in 1967 and was believed to have stolen your car and some money. But in fact, she was murdered and buried.

"Furthermore, we have learned that your brother, Gabriel Jarvis, had an affair with the victim. She got pregnant, and your brother, who had never planned this, tried to find a solution.

"We believe that the solution he found was murder. You were his confidant. We would like you to tell us everything you know about these past events in your own words."

"Yes, Detective." Jamie cleared his throat. "I was twenty-four when it happened," he began. "I was the oldest of us, and so everyone asked me when they had a problem. I guess I was their big brother." He smiled. "I guess they thought I knew a solution for anything, just because I was already grown up. Gabe and Dylan were no longer children, either, but somehow I was their guru.

"Gabriel was always my little brother. He'd ask me first when he had a question. It's always been that way, and when we got older, the principle remained. Only the questions changed." Jamie smiled. "He'd ask me all sorts of things about women and love and sex and whatever fifteen-year-olds want to know. But Gabe realized pretty fast that Jordan Donahue, who lived next door, had a huge crush on him, and the more he looked, the more he liked her, too. They got together when Gabe was fifteen, I think, and for some years they were the perfect couple. They were really happy together."

"Until Natalya turned up," Lilly remarked.

Jamie nodded. "Yes, until Natalya turned up," he repeated. "At first, I didn't notice anything. Of course I saw how Gabe and Dylan looked at her, but that was only natural. She was a pretty girl, and we were really a small community. Of course everyone was interested in her. I used to be, too," he added with a smile. "But unfortunately she didn't want me. She was always very nice to me, but I felt that her interests lay with someone else. I didn't know it was Gabe until Gabe came one night into my room and told me that there had been something going on between him and Natalya. We talked about it for a while, and then I asked him what Gabe intended to do about Jordan. After all, Jordan was his girlfriend, and had been for seven years. Gabe didn't know what to do. He said he loved Jordan, but he needed a change." Jamie smirked. "Of course I said I could understand him. I was a young man, and so was Gabe, but we were both grown up and could do what we wanted. I felt a little sorry for Jordan, because I knew that Gabe was her everything, but Gabe assured me that he wouldn't leave her. So I figured he might just as well make a few experiences. I decided to stay out of the whole story.

"But that didn't work. The others noticed of course that Natalya had a thing going with one of us, and Gabriel got scared. Don't forget that these were the sixties, Detectives. We were out in the middle of nowhere, untouched by the hippies and the message of free love. Our parents were still rather old-fashioned in their points of view. And Gabriel had always been the quiet one of us both. Gabriel was now fearing that our parents would flip out if they learned that he, of all things, was having an affair with the housemaid rather than staying with his long-term girlfriend whom everyone thought he would marry one day. So he asked me for advice, and the only thing I could think of was to pretend that it was me, not Gabe, who had this affair. I was known as the wild son, anyway; no one would be surprised to hear that. It was of course unfair for Natalya, but Gabe and I explained the situation to her. I guess she knew from the start that the thing with Gabe wouldn't last. And after all, it was not that she loved him deeply. Natalya was a strange person, you know. She seemed to be so shy, but in fact she was a straightforward person. She knew exactly what she and Gabe did, she knew about Jordan, and she knew that, if forced, Gabe would always choose Jordan. But she was looking for a little fun, too.

"Anyway, we talked to Natalya, and she agreed to deny any connection to Gabriel but support rumors about her and me. It was very amusing, actually. She and I'd pretend to whisper conspiratorially, we'd set dates, and she'd watch me when I was passing by – in a way everyone would notice, of course. And all the time it was actually her and Gabe. She came to think of me as a sort of accomplice, I think. We almost became friends.

"That worked for a little while. The rumors spread, and Natalya and I did our parts not to let them cease. Everyone believed the stories.

"But after a while, Gabe was getting tired of Natalya. He'd had enough fun, he figured, and it was time for him to return to Jordan. He tried to tell Natalya, but somehow he never managed. If only he had! I don't think Natalya would've made any problems. She didn't love Gabriel. But she didn't know about his feeling, so of course the thing went on and on. And then one night, Gabe came again to my room. He was devastated. Natalya had just told him that she was pregnant. Gabe was terrified, of course. They hadn't planned that. It was too late for an abortion – they couldn't have paid it, anyway -, and not before long, the others would notice as well. And although I did a lot for my little brother, this was going to far. I'd never have married her just because my brother had been careless. Gabe implored me to find a solution. He didn't want to continue the affair, anyway; he was planning to return to Jordan, and now he found himself in a serious conflict. I was his last hope. He knew I always found a solution for any kind of problem, so he figured I'd find one for this problem, too. And I started wondering. I racked my brains for a suitable solution that didn't hurt anyone. It was Natalya herself who finally gave me the idea. She mentioned that she might have a better chance in the city, where there were houses for single mothers and several institutions she could ask for help. Gabe, Natalya and I decided that I would take her away one night. We planned to make it look as if she and I had had a fight, and that she ran off. She promised to write a note to my parents, thanking them for their support, and that she had personal reasons to leave. She had a little money that she had saved, so that she would find a place to stay in Philly.

"When we had set the date, Natalya and I agreed to meet one mile down the road. I went out with Dylan that afternoon. When we returned, I pretended to have forgotten my wallet at the place where were had been, so I asked Dylan to let me borrow the car and go back once more. Dylan didn't suspect anything, of course. He gave me the keys and said goodnight, and I turned around and drove away."

"Do you remember the time?" Chris asked.

Jamie shrugged. "It must have been between ten and ten thirty when we returned. Natalya and I had planned to meet at eleven. Dylan and I returned, and I left about ten minutes later. Why is that so important?"

"Just asking," said Chris. "Your mother heard you leave. But she was already half asleep, and when she heard the next morning that Natalya had disappeared, she thought of course that it had been her."

"No, that must have been me," said Jamie. "I had no idea that she heard me.

"Well, I drove to the spot where we wanted to meet. And then I waited and waited. But Natalya never showed up. I waited until midnight, and then I gave up. I thought that maybe she had fallen asleep, or that something had prevented her from leaving the house, or that Gabe had changed his mind… I turned and went back home."

"Did you meet anyone?"

Jamie hesitated before he said, "No."

Lilly fixed her eyes on him "Really?" She had noticed his hesitation.

"I didn't meet anyone," Jamie repeated. "It's just… I thought I saw someone go towards the forest. I called, but there was no reaction, and I figured it may just have been a shadow of a tree. And besides, I was tired. I went into the house and straight into bed. I didn't even knock on Natalya's door. I just went into bed and slept until noon. And then I learned that Natalya had disappeared."

"What was the first thing you thought about that?" Lilly asked.

Jamie hesitated again. "The car was missing, and the money," he said. "Everyone thought Natalya had just run off – which was what we had planned."

Lilly watched him closely. "But you didn't share this point of view," she stated. It was not a question.

"No," Jamie admitted. "I suspected some foul play. Natalya wouldn't have changed the plan without telling me. Why would she, anyway? Everything was ready. It made no sense that she suddenly decided to keep me out of this. And there was another thing – Natalya couldn't drive a car. And I think I was the only one who knew this – Gabriel wasn't always there when we made our plans. I remember that I asked her one day why she didn't drive herself, and she said she couldn't drive."

Lilly and Chris exchanged a glance. "She had no driver's license?" Chris repeated. "But why didn't you tell the police back then?"

Jamie remained silent, and Lilly answered instead. "You thought that Gabriel had lost his nerve and done something stupid," she said silently.

Jamie did not reply, but that was not necessary.

"You thought that Gabriel had started to doubt whether your plan was really good," Lilly continued. "So he had done something he thought was more secure than simply take Natalya away. He killed her and made it look as if she'd stolen the car."

Jamie nodded faintly.

"And you were the only one who knew that Natalya couldn't have taken the car," Chris continued. "But you didn't tell the police. You obstructed the administration of justice, Mr. Jarvis."

"I know," said Jamie. He raised his eyes and looked at the detectives. "But how could I give the police a hint? How could I let Gabriel down? He was my little brother, you know," he added silently. "I was used to protecting him. I've always protected him."

"And so you remained silent." Lilly nodded. "But you couldn't stand to see him every day, could you? You tried to go on as before, but every time you saw Gabriel you remembered what he had done. You could no longer trust him…"

"Gabe didn't seem changed at all," Jamie said. "Gabe even had the nerve to ask me whether everything had worked, although he knew very well that I had waited in vain for her."

"What happened then?"

"I withdrew from the others," said Jamie. "I know it was a little unfair – I mean, Dylan, Graham and Sunny hadn't done anything, but they were always around where Gabe and Jordan were. Sunny was the only one who sometimes came over to me without the others. But she was still a child, so I didn't tell her anything."

"And then one day you left Deansville."

Jamie nodded. "I packed my belongings, said goodbye, and then I left. I didn't look back, not once. I didn't leave an address, and I never wrote. I just wanted to forget and begin a new life."

"Which was what you did," said Chris, looking at the printouts he'd made. "You moved all across the Northern part of the US. You got married, got divorced. Twice."

"I guess I couldn't find my peace," said Jamie. "But the older I got, the more I thought of my family. I started to feel the urge to go back, but I suppressed it. Still I was curious."

"And so you contacted your nephew, Alex."

Jamie smiled. "I had done some research and found out that Gabe and Jordan had gotten married one year after Natalya's disappearance, and that they had a son called Alexander. That touched me. You know, my middle name is Alexander, too."

"Your family never forgot you, either," said Lilly quietly.

Jamie nodded. "Do you have any more questions?" he asked.

Lilly shook her head. "Do you have any?" she countered.

"Actually I have a request," Jamie said, pushing back his chair. "I'd like to see my brother."

**XXX**

Lilly and Chris kept in the background while Jamie was talking to Gabriel. It was a matter of tactfulness. But even over this distance could they see that Gabriel could hardly control his emotions.

While Gabriel and Jamie were talking, Stillman came over to Lilly and Chris. "Gabriel Jarvis still claims he's innocent," he said. "We have no evidence, no confession, nada. We've got to let him go."

Chris groaned, but Lilly only narrowed her eyes and nodded. Chris and Stillman looked at her.

"No, Lilly," said Chris, who knew her better. "Don't say it. I'm warning you"

"I've got to say it, Chris." Lilly turned to Stillman. "Boss, I think he might tell the truth."

"How come?" Stillman asked.

"Maybe we were proceeding too fast," said Lilly. "The facts allow another conclusion."

"Do they?" said Chris and Stillman in unison.

"Oh yes." Lilly nodded. "Moreover, I don't think that Gabriel would lie to Jamie now. If he doesn't confess to his brother in this very moment, then he didn't do it."

"That's a hypothesis," Chris contradicted.

"That's psychology," Lilly retorted. "Gabriel hasn't seen his brother for thirty-six years. He now sees him again, that's a very emotional moment. Jamie probably tells him that he suspected Gabriel and left therefore. If Gabriel is our man, then he will tell Jamie the truth."

"You've got a point there."

They fell silent an looked again over to the two brothers.

Jamie insisted that he stay with Gabriel until his brother was released, and since they had to release him from custody, anyway, Stillman agreed. He prepared the necessary documents, and an hour later, Gabriel Jarvis was a free man again.

"We're taking you to Deansville," said Lilly, who was waiting for Gabriel and Jamie at the exit door. She looked at Jamie. "What about you, Mr. Jarvis?" she asked. "Do you dare?"

Jamie's eyes sparkled. He had put one arm around his little brother and did not leave his side. "I know now that Gabriel is innocent, Detective," he said. "I'm completely convinced of that. So I don't see a reason why I should stay away from the community any longer."

"Then feel free to join us." Chris opened the door and headed for the detectives' car.

The closer they came to Deansville, the more nervous was Jamie. "What will they say?" he asked for the umpteenth time. "Do you really think they'll receive me with open arms and forget everything else? I didn't even attend my own father's funeral…"

"Don't worry," said Gabriel. "Everything will be alright. I promise you."

Jamie smiled. "We've switched our roles, I reckon," he said. "_I_ used to be the one to calm _you_ down."

"Even little brothers grow up," Gabriel remarked.

Lilly and Chris just smiled at each other and did not say anything.

They arrived in the community, and Chris parked the car. No one was in the street, and Gabriel and Jamie exchanged a glance. "Where are they all?" Jamie asked. His voice trembled.

Gabriel shrugged. "Maybe they're over at our place," he said. "Our living room is in the back of the house; sometimes we don't hear the cars arrive."

Jamie got out of the car, slowly. He rested one arm on the roof of the car and looked around. His voice sounded hoarse as he spoke. "It still looks exactly the same."

"Even Homer is still there." Gabriel pointed at the old, ragged scarecrow on the field adjacent to the Webster house.

The door of the Jarvis house opened at this moment, and Alex Jarvis emerged. He closed the door and came walking down the street. When he saw Gabriel and Jamie, his steps slowed down until he stopped.

"Dad?"

"Hi, Alex." Gabriel hugged his son. "I'm back."

"I see." Alex glanced at Lilly and Chris, then his gaze wandered to Jamie. He was startled. Slowly, he looked from Jamie to Gabriel and back. The similarities were obvious, and Alex was a quick thinker.

"You must be my uncle Jamie," he said calmly. Nothing in his voice suggested that he and Jamie already knew each other. "It's time you came back. My dad talked a lot about you."

"I have a nephew," said Jamie. He had more trouble controlling his voice than Alex. "Your name is Alex, I have learned."

"It's nice seeing you, Uncle Jamie," said Alex with a wide grin.

"It's nice to see _you_," Jamie replied. He took a step towards his nephew. "You're the perfect mixture of your parents, you know. Lucky you! The girls must be mad about you."

"Some are, some are not," said Alex vaguely.

Jamie grinned. "We'll get along very well, sonny," he said and swept the startled boy into a bear hug. Gabriel smiled.

"Alex?" Jordan's voice sounded from the house. "Are you out there?"

"Yeah, Mom!" Alex yelled back. "And you should come outside for a moment. You'll be surprised!"

"Will I?"

"Betcha!"

Jordan apparently suspected something, for she came out of the house instantly, looking around her. She spotted Gabriel and uttered a sound somewhere between a shriek and a sob.

"Gabe!" She ran towards her husband and right into his open arms. "You're back!"

She was so distracted that Jamie had to clear his throat a few times until she noticed him. For a moment, she stood frozen to the ground, staring in disbelief between her husband and her brother-in-law.

"Jamie?"

Jamie nodded, and Jordan stared at him a moment longer.

"This is too much for her," Alex remarked wryly.

"Watch your tongue, sonny!" But Jordan laughed. She finally let got of Gabriel and hugged Jamie instead.

Lilly and Chris exchanged a glance. The felt they were in the wrong place. This family reunion was none of their business. They could return later. Lilly started to retreat, and Chris followed her.

Alex noticed them and cast them a questioning glance.

"We'll come back later," Chris mouthed, and Alex nodded.

The others had apparently started to wonder where Jordan was, for Sunday, Dylan and Graham appeared now in the doorway.

Chris got in the car and started the engine. Lilly sat down beside him and watched the others through the windshield. The last thing she saw before Chris turned around was that Jamie had started to cry.

**XXX**

"It's been more than three hours," said Chris. "I think we can go back now."

The two detectives had gone to Deansville and had spent all the time in a restaurant, where they had had lunch and coffee. They had discussed the case, but Lilly had refused to tell Chris her idea. She had only repeated that they had to get back to the community one last time. And this was where they were now headed.

They parked the car and went to the Jarvis house. The door stood wide open, so they went in. They were met by a babble of voices coming out of the kitchen.

Sunday McLaren was the first to spot them. "Detectives!" she called.

Before they could say Jack Robinson, Lilly and Chris had to shake everyone's hands and answer a zillion questions. Everyone was so overjoyed over the return of the lost son that no one thought of the murder case that was still unsolved.

Lilly decided to let the others come back to the topic. It would not take long, she reckoned. After all, the murder case had been the reason why Jamie – and Gabriel – had returned.

"Let's get into the crowd," Chris whispered to her. Lilly grinned, and Chris waved and was gone.

Lilly went over to Jordan. Jordan was still smiling. When she noticed Lilly, she beamed at her.

"They still can't believe that Jamie is back," she said. "It's a miracle. And then there's Gabe! I knew you wouldn't be able to charge him with anything. Gabriel didn't kill her. I'm sure he didn't."

"You know, Jordan," said Lilly, "I'm getting more and more inclined to share your point of view."

"Are you?" Jordan looked at Lilly. "So who do you think did it?"

"I've got my own theory," said Lilly. "But I need to ask a few more questions before I can confirm it."

"What kind of questions?"

"All sorts of questions."

"Well, then why don't you start asking them right away? I want this thing to be over."

Lilly nodded. "Why not," she said. "Let's go into the living room."

Jordan led the way and Lilly followed. They sat down on the couch, and Jordan looked expectantly at Lilly. "Fire away, Detective."

Lilly watched the other woman closely as she asked the one question she wanted to ask: "Tell me, Jordan, did you know about Gabriel's affair with Natalya?"

A visible shudder went through Jordan's body, and her eyes narrowed. "Does that play any role?" she asked.

"I'm just curious." Lilly got up went to the pictures on the wall. "You see, I was wondering why you changed the order of your initials in the second picture. In the first one, your initials come first. In the second one, Gabriel's do. So I was wondering…" She trailed off and looked at Jordan.

Jordan met her glance and smiled. "Go ahead," she said. "I'd like to hear your interpretation. It's rare that someone thinks so much about my art."

"Alright," said Lilly and smiled as well. "I was wondering that maybe the order J – D – G – J stands for your feelings for Gabriel, and the order G – J – J – D means that these feelings are finally reciprocated. Completely, I mean. And if you knew about Gabriel's affair, you could be sure to be loved in return only after Natalya had disappeared."

"Go ahead," said Jordan. Her face was strangely motionless.

"Strange, isn't it, how much a picture can tell about what was going on inside the artist," Lilly said musingly. "Take this one, _The Tempest-Tossed_. It is very clear to me that you were angry and maybe even desperate when you painted this. The storm, the waves, the clouds… and this person there, all alone, undecided… You must have been in a difficult situation. A conflict. And then the other one: It seems so quiet and peaceful, as if you'd gotten rid of a big problem. That broom there is exactly at the spot where the person stood. That leads me to the conclusion that this person is the solved problem itself." Lilly did not look at Jordan as she added casually, "I suppose you painted the first one before, and the second one after you killed Natalya Atrochenko."


	12. Jordan's Paintings

**Chapter Eleven – Jordan's Paintings**

For quite a long while, nobody spoke.

Jordan stood frozen to the spot, her face a mask that displayed no emotion. After what seemed to be an eternity, she drew a breath and said, "I call it _Relief_. The second picture, I mean."

"I see," said Lilly. "Natalya's death really was a relief for you, wasn't it? She was the only thing that stood between you and Gabriel."

"Everyone knew I was mad about him." Jordan looked at the pictures. "She knew it, too, and still she let this happen. I'm not naïve; I know that Gabe was probably the one who started it. Natalya would've been way too shy. I can't even hate her for that. But it all came down to her or Gabe, and I couldn't very well kill the man I loved so deeply now, couldn't I?"

"No, you couldn't," Lilly said. "You preferred to kill Natalya."

"I had no other choice." Jordan's voice was calm. "Gabe was in a serious conflict. He's not a bad guy, Detective. He only wanted to have some fun, but then she got pregnant, and Gabe thought now everything was over. He would have to marry her – for the sake of a child he never wanted. She couldn't have kept it secret for much longer. Jamie had covered for him up to then – I suppose you know that he made everyone believe that it was him, not Gabe, who had the affair with Natalya. But Jamie wouldn't have married her. So I had to do something. I couldn't let Gabriel get into this. He loved me, not Natalya. And once she was dead, Gabriel could return to me."

"He wanted to return to you, anyway." Lilly looked at Jordan. "He had asked Jamie to take Natalya away that night. Jamie waited for hours, but Natalya never turned up, so he thought Gabriel had killed her. That's why he left, Jordan. That's why he could no longer stand to see his little brother, whom he thought to be a killer."

Jordan looked at Lilly for a long time. Different emotions were flickering through her eyes, but when she spoke, her voice still sounded even. "Well, that changes a lot," she said simply.

Lilly nodded. "It does," she agreed. "You committed the crime for nothing, Jordan. If only you had waited one more day, then you would've learned the truth. Jamie had found a solution for the whole problem, but you spoiled his plans."

"_Nothing comes from violence, and nothing ever could_," Jordan quoted silently. "I was young, Detective. I was young and frustrated and angry, and I was literally madly in love. I didn't see another way out of this dilemma. Not back then."

"But didn't Gabriel tell you about what he ad Jamie had planned?" Lilly asked.

"I refused to talk about Natalya," Jordan replied. "Whenever Gabriel mentioned her name, I'd stop listening. Maybe he tried to tell me…"

"You should've listened better, Jordan," Lilly said sadly.

"She never suspected a thing," Jordan said. "I was always nice to her. She was so harmless… Back then, I tried to hate her, and I couldn't. But I didn't feel any sympathy for her, either."

"You used one of the pictures, didn't you?" said Lilly. "When you saw her, you asked her to come in, and while you told her that you knew about her and Gabriel, you took the picture that was already framed and hit her over the head with it. We found out that the skull was indented at the left temple. She must have died instantly."

"I couldn't believe how easy that was." Jordan's gaze lingered on _The Tempest-Tossed_. "One moment she was alive, and in the next moment, she lay on the ground with that funny little wound in her head. I hid her behind my painting tools, and when everyone was asleep, I buried her. Then I put my bike in the trunk of the Jarvis's car and drove a few miles into the forest. There I hid the car, took my bike to get back home, and a few days later I took the car to Philly, just like you said."

"And the money?"

"I didn't take any money." Jordan looked at Lilly. "Believe me, I didn't take the money. I didn't even think of money. I just wanted to cause the impression that Natalya had run off with the car. I didn't even know where Diane kept the money; I only learned a few days later, when Diane discovered that the money in question was gone."

Lilly looked at Jordan a moment longer, but she saw no lie in the woman's eyes. Jordan was telling the truth. But who took the money? Lilly wondered. She had always assumed that the killer had taken the money as well, but Jordan denied it. And why would she lie about the money? It did not change anything to the facts. It would certainly have no effect on the sentence.

Lilly decided to deal with the problem later.

"Why did you manipulate our brakes?" she asked.

Jordan sighed. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I was out of my mind. You see, you had just arrested my husband, and I was the only one who knew for sure that he was innocent, but I couldn't tell you the truth. I just felt like I had to do something. Anything. Manipulating your brakes was a childish idea. I guess I just wanted to draw attention to the fact that Gabriel couldn't have done it, because he was already in custody…" Jordan shook her head. "I don't know, Detective Rush. But I'm glad that nothing happened to you. Really. I never wanted you or your partner to get hurt."

Lilly suppressed a sarcastic answer, because she felt that Jordan was telling the truth. Instead, she sighed.

"You know what happens next, do you?" she said.

"I do," said Jordan, "and I'm ready."

Lilly swallowed. This was going to be very hard for her. "Jordan Jarvis," she said, "you are arrested on the charge of murder. You have the right to remain silent…"

**XXX**

"Unbelievable," said Chris. "Lil, you're a genius."

"I'm not," Lilly objected. "I just…"

"You suspected Jordan because of a _painting_," Chris pointed out. "I'd never have thought of that."

"Well," Lilly murmured, "it wasn't so hard, after all."

Chris looked at her. "Lilly, what's wrong?" he asked. "You look so gloomy."

"I'm sad," Lilly admitted. "I had started to like them. Jordan Jarvis is an impressive woman."

"She's got character," Chris agreed. "She knows what she did, and she's ready to suffer the consequences."

"Poor Alex," said Lilly. "First his father is arrested, then he's released, and next thing you know his mother's put in jail. I don't wanna be in his place."

"Neither do I."

"Do you think the lab's gonna find traces of blood on the picture?" Lilly asked.

Chris shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "It would be useful for the trial. I mean, it's very rare that we can actually provide some physical evidence."

"Jordan won't revoke her confession," Lilly said. "I'm positive about that."

"Me, too." Chris fell silent.

They looked down the street without saying a word.

After a while, Gabriel Jarvis emerged from his house, spotted the detectives, and came towards them.

"Detectives?"

Lilly turned around. She half expected Gabriel to scream and shout, or to tell her to go to hell, but the writer smiled. Sadly, though, but he smiled, and there was no reproach in his glance.

"I just…" he said, trailed off, cleared his throat, and spoke again. "I just wanted to tell you that… that I'm not angry with you." He blushed. "You arrested my wife, and perhaps you think that I'm mad at you. But I'm not. And I don't think that Jordan is."

Lilly did not speak.

"She may even be relieved," Gabriel continued. "She carried this secret around for more than thirty years. Yes, maybe she feels relieved." He paused and shook his head. "Jordan," he murmured. "And I thought all the time that Jamie had taken her away."

"Really, Gabriel?" Lilly asked.

Gabriel stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"Did you really believe that Jamie took her away?" Lilly asked. "I mean, were you absolutely convinced?"

Gabriel did not reply.

"I'm not saying that you knew what Jordan had done," Lilly continued, "but I believe that you knew deep inside that something had gone wrong. You never talked to Jamie about your plan, and how good it worked."

"_Jamie_ didn't," Gabriel corrected. "Whenever I wanted to ask him about that night, he'd just look at me in this odd way and say, 'It's over, Gabe. Don't waste any time thinking about it.' And so I stopped asking."

"You know why."

"He thought I did it," Gabriel said silently.

"Why did you take the money?" Lilly asked casually.

"Because…" Gabriel trailed of and looked at Lilly, alerted, but she just calmly met his gaze.

"Jordan said she didn't take the money, and Jamie wasn't there." Lilly kept looking at Gabriel. "You took the money, didn't you? Why?"

Gabriel sighed. "I don't know," he admitted. "I guess I just wanted to support the theory that Natalya had run off. If she took the car, she could've taken the money as well."

"Yeah, but why? Everyone believed this theory even before your mother discovered the money was gone."

"I don't know!" Gabriel shouted. "Okay? I just thought it was a good idea."

"Uh-huh." Lilly did not ask any further questions, and Gabriel calmed down again.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to shout. It's just… my nerves, you know…"

"It's alright," said Chris. "Your wife's just been arrested; you have every right to be unnerved."

"A propos of Jordan," Gabe said to Lilly, "I've got something for you."

"What?" Lilly stared at him. "For me?"

Gabriel nodded. "Would you care to come over for a sec? It won't take long."

After casting Chris a questioning glance, Lilly followed Gabriel to the Jarvis house. Gabriel opened the door, stepped aside to let her pass, and followed her to the living room.

As soon as Lilly had entered the room, she noticed a change: The two painting had been taken off the wall. A pang of regret shot through her body. The wall looked so pale and empty without the pictures…

"Why did you take them off?" she asked Gabriel.

He smiled faintly. "They only remind me of her," he said. "They remind me of the whole story, and of what she did. I used to love them, but now I can't stand them."

"What are you going to do with them?" Lilly hardly dared to ask the question.

"That's why you're here," said Gabriel. "I think Jordan would like you to have them."

Lilly stared at Gabriel and then at the empty spots on the wall. "Me? But why?"

"Jordan is a real artist," Gabriel said. "I think she would like you to have them because you were the first person ever who really understood what the pictures were about. You understood her art. She respects that."

"I sent her to prison!"

"That doesn't matter," said Gabriel. "Jordan told me, before she was arrested, that she's glad to have met you. And in a way, she's also glad to no longer bear this secret. Never before could she talk about these two pictures the way she wanted to, because she always had to make sure not to give herself away. Now she can. And that's why I'm giving the pictures to you."

"I don't know what to say," said Lilly.

Gabriel smirked. "Well, 'thank you' would be a good choice," he suggested.


	13. Goodbyes and Solutions

**Chapter Twelve – Goodbyes and Solutions**

When Lilly and Chris returned to the office in the evening – tired, worn out, a little sad, but proud to have solved the case -, Nick Vera received them at the entrance.

"Well done," he said, beaming at them. "I wouldn't have thought you'd manage."

"How come you don't hold us in such high esteem, Vera?" Chris retorted cheerfully. "Lilly and I always solve our cold cases."

"There's a first time for everything," said Nick.

Lilly and Chris grinned at each other. They both remembered very well that they had had a similar conversation five days ago, when Lilly had had her doubts.

"Well, then why don't you come in?" Nick said, bidding them inside as if he was a butler. "You're the heroes of the day, you know."

"Cut that!" Lilly protested. "We just did our jobs."

"Tell that to the marines," remarked Stillman, who suddenly appeared behind Nick. "I watched you, Lil. You were so consumed with the case, and you were so worried about the suspects… This was more for you than just a job."

"It wasn't!" Lilly's protest went unheard as Nick and Stillman accompanied her and her partner into the office.

"Well, I never…!" Lilly exclaimed when she saw the whole crew assembled in the room. They were all smiling; some of them were wearing party hats. Two tables were laden with bowls and plates. Some bottles were lined up neatly behind them. Someone started a CD, and Queen's "We Are The Champions" resounded through the rooms of the Philadelphia Homicide Squad.

"You're out of your mind!" Lilly said, but no one was listening. She turned to Chris and was surprised to see that he did not seem surprised at all.

"Chris," she said sternly, "what's going on here? Did you know that this was going to happen?"

Chris looked at her. "Well, Lilly, it's not as it seems," he said. "You see, this party doesn't only take place 'cause we solved the case. There's another reason."

"What reason?" Lilly demanded to know.

Chris squirmed. "Listen, I wouldn't wanna tell you here," he said, a little uneasily. "You remember I wanted to talk to you yesterday? You were too tired, so we postponed it. Well, I wanted to talk to you about exactly this reason…"

"Tell me now." Lilly stopped and turned to Chris. "I'm not going anywhere until I know what this is all about."

"But, Lilly…" Chris looked around. "It may come as a bit of a shock…"

"Tell me." Lilly was stubborn.

Chris sighed. "Well…" he said, but he did not get any further. Two colleagues from the Missing Persons Department were heading at them.

"Lassing," one of them called; Lilly thought his name was Danesh. His partner, a tall, blonde woman called Rena Thorpe, was following at his heels.

Chris turned to them, clearly relieved at the interruption. "Wade," he said a little too cheerfully. "Hi there. And Rena." A nod at Thorpe. "How are you two doing over there?"

"Fine," Wade Danesh answered, and his partner nodded. Chris looked at Lilly. "You know my partner, Lilly Rush?"

"Sure." Danesh nodded, then smiled at Lilly. "I heard you just made a big deal, solving that cold case. Congrats."

"Thanks." Lilly sighed secretly. Chris and Wade Danesh would certainly talk for a while, then she might as well go and get herself a drink.

She excused herself and made her way to the buffet. Ten minutes and millions of congratulations later, she turned back to Chris and saw that he was still talking to Danesh.

She approached unseen, intending to wait until their conversation ceased. She did not mean to eavesdrop, but she could not help overhearing what they were talking about. And what she heard hit her like a slap in the face.

"… she know yet?" Wade Danesh was asking.

Chris shook his head. He looked a little gloomy. "I couldn't find the right moment yet," he said. "I tried, but something always got in the way. And I don't want her to learn from someone else."

"Well," Rena Thorpe cut in, "if I were you, I'd go and tell her in the instant you and Wade stop talking. I don't know her very well, Lassing, but I know the way _I_ would react if Wade would leave the department. I'd like _him_ to tell me, not somebody else."

Lilly stood frozen to the ground. Were they talking about her? What was this talking about Chris leaving the department…?

This is not happening, she told herself. This ain't true. They must be talking about someone else…

"You have a point there," Chris said to Rena Thorpe. "I'll go looking for Lilly in a minute."

Looking for Lilly. For her. So it was true. Lilly could not move. She wanted to speak, but she could not open her mouth to do so. So _this_ was the big secret! Suddenly it was all clear to Lilly. That was why Chris had been so eager to solve the case. That was why he had sometimes gotten so solemn. That was why Stillman and Nick had reacted so reserved when she had enthused what a good team she and her partner were. That was why, that was why…

A whole number of things came to Lilly's mind. She clasped her glass of tonic and tried to focus. When she finally spoke, her voice seemed to belong to someone else.

"Thank you, Chris, but it's too late for that," she said. Chris turned around, saw her, and the smile crumbled from his lips.

"Lilly…"

Lilly finally could move again. She turned around and went across the room. When she passed the buffet, she placed her glass on the table, then she opened the door to Stillman's office and peered inside. No one was in the room, and Lilly entered the dark office, slammed the door and sat down on Stillman's couch. She rested her chin in her hands and stared blankly into the darkness. She heard the noise from the party and felt no need to go back.

Chris was about to leave the department. _Her partner was actually going to leave the department!_ Lilly felt her throat narrow, and this made her mad at herself. Crying was no solution, and why would she cry, anyway? It was not that Chris would be gone forever. He would simply be transferred to another department – that did not mean that she would lose her best friend.

Still she felt betrayed. She did not even know why; after all, Chris had meant to tell her for days. She had been the one to forget. It was her own fault.

But this knowledge did not make her feel better.

Lilly swallowed a few times to fight back the tears welling in her eyes.

She had been sitting there for quite while when the door opened and Chris appeared in the door. He peered into the darkness, trying to see whether she was there or not.

"Lilly?" he asked hesitantly.

Lilly was tempted not to answer, but she figured this was unfair. After all, it was really not his fault. So she finally said, "I'm here."

"May I come in?"

"Sure."

Chris entered the office and went past Stillman's desk. In passing, he switched on the small lamp that was hidden among the piles of files and documents. Lilly narrowed her eyes.

"Why did you run away?" Chris asked, sitting down beside her.

Lilly shrugged. "I guess I wanted to be alone for a second." She smiled faintly. "Rena Thorpe was right, you know. I really didn't like learning it from someone else."

"I'm sorry." Chris looked so guilty that her smile widened. She sighed and looked out of the window.

"Why are you leaving?" she asked after a small pause.

"Certainly not because of you," Chris replied with a smile. He reached over and briefly squeezed her hands. "I've been thinking about it for some time, but I never got around to do it. We were such a good team, and ur cases were so, well… different..."

"So what made you change your mind?" Lilly asked. "Did anything happen I don't know about?"

"You know I suffer from diabetes, do you?" Chris said.

Lilly nodded. Chris had once told her that it had been mighty hard for him to be accepted at the police academy, since the professors had had their doubts whether a diabetic policeman would be able to cope with the job.

"Well, my doctor's been telling me for months that I should take care," Chris continued. "We had a couple of really tricky cases to solve, and my levels were not ideal. He'd tell me again and again that I should consider having myself transferred to another department or to the administration. And two weeks ago, I finally conceded."

"Two weeks…?" Lilly tried to remember if anything had happened two weeks ago. "You were ill for a few days, weren't you?"

"Yes." Chris looked at her. "We had this case at that time, remember? We had to run all across Philly all day."

Lilly nodded.

"I forgot to inject my insulin," Chris admitted. "I collapsed, and it was only thanks to my neighbor, who heard me fall down and came running, that nothing worse happened. He took me to the hospital, and there I remembered my mistake."

Lilly went pale. "You could have…"

"I didn't," Chris interrupted her. "I'm sitting here beside you, ain't I?"

"I didn't know it was so bad," Lilly said, still pale from the shock. "I thought you'd just caught the flu or something."

"I didn't want to scare anyone," Chris said. "So I told only Stillman why I'd called in sick. We had a long conversation, and then I decided I'd do it. I'm going to be transferred to another department."

"Which one?"

"Internal Affairs. I won't be out and about anymore." Chris grimaced. "It's no my idea of my job, but my doctor told me I really had to pay more attention to my health."

Lilly did not reply. She had to digest this information. Chris would leave the department, and a new partner would be assigned to her. It would not be the same.

"Lilly," said Chris silently. "Are you mad at me?"

Lilly turned her head to look at him. "No," she said, and her voice trembled slightly. "No, of course not. If work here is too dangerous for your condition, then of course you must find another solution. It's just…" She trailed off, uncertain what to say.

"It's just what?"

"You and me, we were…" Lilly was struggling for words. "I mean, we were such a good team. I've had other partners before you, but it never worked so well. We weren't only partners, we were friends. Good friends, I mean."

"Lilly," said Chris, a little helplessly, "just because I'll no longer be your partner… that doesn't mean we can't stay friends. We'll remain in touch, of course."

"Of course." Lilly did not quite know herself why she felt so sad. "It's just… it will be different," she tried to explain. "We'll no longer meet every day, we'll no longer go hunting together… From now on I'll have to call you and set a date if I want to see you. We'll have different things to talk about."

"But that's not too bad, isn't it?" Chris smiled bracingly. "Come on, Lilly, I can't stand seeing you so sad. Why don't you smile?"

Lilly smiled; she could not help it. Chris beamed at her.

"That's better," he said. "I'll still be around, you know. Just a few rooms away. You can come over whenever you need me."

Lilly sighed. "The same goes for you, of course," she said.

"I hope so." Chris smirked. Then he looked at her. "Don't look so gloomy, Lil," he said. "Tonight I'm still here, don't forget that." He reached out his arm and put it firmly around her shoulders, then he pulled her close. Lilly leaned against him and closed her eyes. Her arms crept around his waist, and she held on to her partner, savoring this moment that could, for some time, be the last. Chris rested his chin on her hair, and for a little while none of them said a word. They just kept sitting there in the dark office on Stillman's couch, bidding each other a silent farewell.

Finally Chris raised his head again, and Lilly sat up straight. They looked at each other. Chris wanted to speak, but apparently thought better of it and bent to her instead. He gently placed a kiss on Lilly's forehead. Lilly did not need any words to know what he wanted to say, and her response was a smile.

Before the moment could get awkward, she took a deep breath, got up and took Chris's hand in order to pull him up as well.

"Come on, partner," she said. "We have a party to attend."


	14. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_Philadelphia, 2004_

_ "When I look back on everything now, I think I should have known all along that it was her. All the time." _

_- Gabriel Jarvis, "Underneath" (1972)_

Lilly put the book down and looked out of the window into the traffic chaos of Philadelphia. Nick Vera and Will Jeffries were talking nearby about the World Series, and Scotty Valens, Lilly's new partner, was having lunch with his girlfriend, Elisa. Lilly had decided to stay in the office during her lunch break and finish Gabriel Jarvis's novel. Although the case had been solved and closed almost a year ago, Lilly often thought of the _Outer Four_ and their community. Ever since she had met Gabriel, she had kept coming across his novels in the several bookshops of Philadelphia. Two weeks ago, she had, on impulse, entered one of the shops and carefully read the summaries of each of Gabe's novels. _Underneath_, the one she had just finished, was his first one.

When Lilly had read the fist few pages, she had been hooked on the story. But it also occurred to her that maybe she would have solved the case much earlier if she had read the book before. Although the plot was different from Natalya's story, the book was full of clues. The first line, for instance, which was repeated in the end, thus also being the last line: _When I look back on everything now, I think I should have known all along that it was her. _To this day, Lilly doubted that Gabriel really had not known about what Jordan had done, and the opening line in his first novel, written five years after Natalya's disappearance, only supported her theory.

But it was over. Jordan was in jail; Gabriel had just finished his latest novel, _Blinded by Justice_; Graham Webster had attended a seminar in criminology and was now better prepared for another case like this; Dylan was still working in the bank and having spare ribs for lunch; and Alex Jarvis had graduated from high school second best and was currently waiting for his test results for Harvard. His uncle Jamie had helped him prepare for it.

Lilly reached into her drawer and fetched an envelope that contained a card. _Better Late Than Never_ was printed on one side, and on the other side there was a hand-written note:

_Dear Detective Rush:_

_We thought you would like to know that we are getting married in September. Although there has been much trouble and pain in our community because of your intervention, there have also been some positive results, and we are never going to forget that. Jamie would not have returned and I would not have learned the truth about him if it had not been for you. Therefore we would like to send you and Detective Lassing only the best wishes, hoping that you will keep your quick thinking and your sympathy for those under suspicion. I do not think we will meet again, Detective, so this probably means farewell._

_Kindest regards,_

_Sunday McLaren Jarvis_

_James Jarvis_

Lilly had read the note many times, but she still kept it in her drawer, so that from time to time, she could look at it. She liked this pleasant "All's well that ends well" feeling the short note gave her.

Sometimes she missed Chris. Scotty was a good partner, no doubt, and Lilly knew that in time they would surely become good friends, but still it was different. Scotty was different. And although she and Chris stayed in touch, this slight feeling of loss remained.

Lilly sighed inaudibly and took Gabriel's book again. The summary announced a "gripping and compelling story of secrets and revelations and of things that lie _Underneath_," and Lilly agreed. This novel had convinced her to spend more time reading.

She pushed back her chair and got up. Her lunch break was not over until one thirty, and a glance at her watch told her that she had twenty more minutes.

Just enough to go down to the bookshop and get another Jarvis novel.

**XXX**

About one week later, a surprise was waiting for Lilly when she reached the office this morning. Or rather, there were two surprises.

The first one was that Chris was sitting on her desk, flipping through the pages of her current case file, talking to Nick, Will and Scotty. So familiar was this scene that it took Lilly a moment to remember that Chris actually no longer belonged in it.

She went over to the little group and hugged her ex partner.

"Hi there," she said. "Been missing us?"

"Yeah, that as well," said Chris. "But the main reason I'm here is something else."

He pointed his head at a large parcel on Lilly's desk. "You've got mail, Lil," he said.

"And that's something so extraordinary that it made you come over instantly?" Lilly smiled.

"Take a look who sent it."

Lilly went to her desk and stared for a moment, confused.

"But that's from…"

"From Jordan Jarvis," said Chris. "Sent from prison. Checked by the guards and deemed harmless."

"Why on earth would Jordan send me a parcel?" said Lilly.

"I guess you've got to open it if you wanna find out." Chris handed her a pair of scissors. "We're all eager to see what's in it."

Lilly was skeptic. "But what if…"

"Don't worry," Chris interrupted. ""As I said, the guards checked it."

Lilly cast him one last glance, then she shrugged and started opening the parcel. Nick, Will, Scotty and Chris gathered close around her and watched her every move. Even Stillman noticed what was going on and came over to the little group.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Nick informed him, and Stillman jostled past him and Will. "I want to catch a look, too," he said.

Lilly had meanwhile opened the parcel and was holding in her hands a large, rectangular thing that was wrapped in brown paper. A plain white card was attached to it, and Lilly put the present down on the desk and read the card first:

_Detective Rush:_

_I've been thinking a lot about our last conversation before I was arrested (I've got enough time here, as you can probably imagine). I still remember what you said about art, and how much it tells us about what was going on inside the artist. It was my art that finally gave me away._

_I'm going to use this medium one more time. Fortunately, I'm allowed to paint here. I finished another work, and this is what I'm going to send you. Maybe you'll be able to tell my feelings from it as well, just as you interpreted the other two. _

_I won't tell you the title of this one, but when you have looked at it and drawn your conclusions, I'd be glad if you came by to visit me. I promise I'll answer your questions._

_Regards,_

_Jordan Jarvis_

Some of her confusion must have shown on her face, because Chris looked at her. "What does she write?" he asked.

Lilly did not answer. She reached for the present and tore the brown paper in which it was wrapped. She half expected what she was going to see, and she was right.

The painting showed the same coast that was depicted in _The Tempest-Tossed _and_ Relief_. This time, the coastline was hardly recognizable, for the whole top of the cliff was covered in broom. The bushes grew everywhere; their roots even grew over the precipice, wriggling over and through the moss. They were all in bloom, yellow and bright. The sky was blue and covered in little white clouds that reflected the light of the setting sun. The whole picture seemed peaceful and cheerful at the same time.

Lilly's eyes automatically scanned the precipice for another hidden message, but this time, the moss covered everything. The fissures were completely covered by the green plants. The clouds and the bushed did not form any letters, either. But Lilly noticed something else:

Right in the middle of this sea of broom, one bush was missing. Instead, there was something else, but no matter how close Lilly looked, she could not tell. It was simply too small. It looked like a bunch of flowers, but Lilly was not sure.

"Lil?" Lilly jumped. Chris, who had spoken, raised his hands.

"Sorry," he said, smiling, "But I know this expression. I thought I'd get you back here before we lost you completely."

"Ha, ha." Lilly made an effort to look away from the painting. "Jordan sent me a painting," she stated, most superfluously.

"Why?" Stillman asked, thus summing up everyone's thoughts.

"I have no idea." Lilly sighed. "She wants to tell me something, but she wants me to find out myself."

"Then why don't you withdraw together with your present and unriddle the riddle?" Nick asked.

Lilly glared at him. "Don't you make fun of me, Vera," she said.

Nick grinned. "But you must admit, Rush, that it's actually quite funny," he said. "I mean, this woman got some galls, don't you think? A convict, and still she sends you a present, but she doesn't say why…"

"That's got something to do with the way she and Lilly used to talk," Chris said, protecting his ex partner. "That's how Lilly found out it was her – she interpreted Jordan's paintings."

"At least sort of," Lilly amended. "And I, for my part, don't hold it against Jordan that she sent me such a message."

Nick mumbled something unintelligible.

"Would you now please leave me alone?" Lilly asked. "I've got a riddle to solve."

**XXX**

Lilly sat down at the table and waited for the warden to return with Jordan. It had been three days since she had received the parcel from Jordan. Lilly did not know whether she had understood the message Jordan had sent her, but she had decided, quite spontaneously, to visit her today. And now she was here in the small, windowless room that was usually reserved for the convicts and their lawyers.

Lilly had not seen Jordan Jarvis for almost a year, so she turned around as soon as the door was opened, eager to see whether Jordan would look any different.

She did, indeed. She had lost some weight, her hair showed more gray strands, and there were wrinkles around her eyes that had not been there last year, either. But she kept her head held high, and her dark eyes were still full of life. The warden went behind her, and her hand lay only loosely on Jordan's arm.

Jordan walked into the room, nodded, and smiled.

"Detective Rush. I'm glad you came."

Lilly, who had risen when Jordan had entered, sat down again. "How are you doing, Jordan?" she asked.

Jordan shrugged. "What do you think? I'm in jail."

"You know what I mean." Lilly did not avert her eyes from the other woman.

Jordan sat down, and the warden remained beside the door, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed in front of her body.

"I'm alright," said Jordan after a short break. "Really. I'll survive."

"Does your family visit you sometimes?"

"Gabe does," Jordan replied. "He comes by as often as he can. He finished his novel."

"I'm planning to read it," Lilly said with a smile.

"I thought you didn't read much?"

"I thought better of it."

Jordan nodded thoughtfully. "Jamie and Sunday visited me last week," she said. "They're getting married."

"I know."

The conversation stalled for a moment. Lilly tried to find a good point where to begin, but Jordan helped her out.

"So you got the painting," she said.

"Yes. Thank you. It's… I don't know. It's extraordinary."

"Well, it completes the trilogy," said Jordan. "And as far as I know, you have the other two pictures as well in your apartment."

"Your husband gave them to me," Lilly said.

"I know."

There was another pause. Then Jordan laughed silently. "So are you going to give me another interpretation of my works, Detective?" she asked. "I'm very keen to hear it."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," said Lilly, "but for me, the picture symbolizes the end of the whole story. The real end."

"So far so good," said Jordan with a smirk.

"It's peaceful," Lilly continued, "but not entirely. The missing bush disturbs the absolute perfection. Unfortunately, I couldn't find out what grows there instead."

"You'll find out," said Jordan.

"If the bush in _Relief_ stood for the grave, then the missing bush here shows that the grave was found," Lilly ventured. "The missing bush shows that something has changed. The solution you found back then turned out to be a temporary one. That's why the bush is missing."

Jordan nodded.

"But all the other bushes show that everything else is alright. Everything else is perfect. And since there _is_ something where the missing bush was, there's no gap left, either. Something belongs there as well. The grave is gone, but the result is positive."

"You got it," said Jordan. "Detective Rush, you're really good at this. You don't want to write some articles about my works, do you?"

Lilly declined. "I'm doing all of this off the top of my head," she said. "As soon as someone asks me to say why I think so, I'm lost. I still don't know anything about art."

"Intuition is the most important thing about art," said Jordan. "Not the theoretical knowledge about colors and techniques and canvas and the difference between oil and watercolor. Just intuition. Rembrandt, Van Gogh, Monet, Michelangelo… they all relied on their intuition. They would never have had so much success if they hadn't."

"But my intuition can't give me a hint as to the title of the work," Lilly said with a smile. "You wrote that you wanted me to find that out myself, but I can't."

"How do you know? Maybe you already found the title." Jordan looked expectantly at Lilly. "Tell me, what did you think of?"

"_Harmony_," said Lilly." "I would have called the painting _Harmony_."

"Well, that's quite a good approach," said Jordan. "Though it's not the title I had in mind."

"So which one did you have in mind?"

"The plainest one I could think of," said Jordan. "It expresses everything I feel about the whole thing. About you, about Gabe, about Jamie, even about her… about Natalya."

Lilly took a wild guess. "_Redemption_?"

"No."

"_Rectification_?"

"Neither."

"I resign." Lilly smiled. "Tell me the title."

Jordan fixed her beautiful eyes on Lilly. "It's quite simple," she said. "_Forgiveness_."

**XXX**

Lilly stood in her apartment, her gaze fixed on the three paintings that hung next to each other on the wall. Her mind wandered back to the conversations she had had with Jordan about the pictures. She had learned a lot from those works. Not only about the case, but also about Jordan as a person. About her character, her emotions, and her way to deal with those.

She slowly looked from one picture to the other. The hidden messages in the first two paintings were so clear, once you knew about them. Lilly could not believe that Jordan had not hidden anything in the third one, although Jordan had denied to have done so when Lilly had asked her. Still, knowing Jordan, Lilly wondered. It doesn't necessarily have to be letters, she thought. It could be anything.

Her gaze lingered on _Forgiveness_. The perfection that was created just because of this one missing bush. A bunch of flowers in its rightful place. The bush had never belonged there. The temporary solution gave way to a permanent one…

And then she knew. All of a sudden, Lilly had discovered the hidden message. This time, it was no declaration of love as in the other two. It was much simpler. It just showed that Jordan had accepted her fate and Lilly's own role in the whole game. The message referred to her, to her name – the whole secret message lay in that little bunch of white flowers that had replaced the bush that symbolized Natalya's death.

The flowers were lilies.

** THE END **


End file.
